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BELOW THE EQUATOR 



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BELOW THE EQUATOR 



THE STORY OF A TOUR THROUGH THE 
COUNTRIES OF SOUTH AMERICA 



BY 

EDITH OGDEN HARRISON 

Author of "The Lady of the Snoivs," "Princess Sayrane, 
"Clemencta 1 s Crisis,'* "Prince Silverivings," Etc. 




CHICAGO 

A. C. McCLURG & CO. 

1918 



Copyright 

A. C. McClurg & Co. 

1918 



Published November, 1918 




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NOV 21 19)8 

©CU506672 



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ACKNOWLEDGMENT 

For the use of the photographs from which the pictures 
in this book are made, I am indebted to Mr. E. M. New- 
man, whose illustrated travel talks please and instruct 
enormous audiences, and to my husband, Carter H. Harri- 
son, whose first thought when preparing for a trip to other 
lands and places is of his camera. 

E. O. H. 



FOREWORD 

OUR voyage down the South Seas began at the 
Isthmus of Panama, and it is difficult to 
write without dwelling at least briefly on the won- 
ders of the great Canal. Never has the immensity 
of government work impressed me so much as 
there. Never has the importance of that work so 
forced itself upon my mind. From a jungle has 
sprung a beautiful land teeming with rich cultiva- 
tion, with busy people. In place of a pestilential 
hole of death there now smiles a land of health and 
prosperity. We thrilled with the pride of its ac- 
complishment, and we gloried in belonging to a 
country that had made all this possible. In this lit- 
tle book on our South American travels there is no 
place to tell of these wonders nor of the many acts 
of courtesy and kindness that made our visit pleas- 
ant and instructive; I cannot refrain, however, 
from thanking General Clarence Edwards — Com- 
manding General — and his charming wife, Consul 
and Mrs. Dreher, and Mr. and Mrs. Samuel M. 
Heald, for the splendid hospitality they extended 
to us. Because of their warm and hospitable recep- 
tion of us we were able to partake to the full of 



Foreword 



the many enjoyments the Isthmus has to offer. 
[Since this book was written General Edwards* 
name has become famous in Europe. He has been 
cited by General Pershing for bravery, and deco- 
rated for his valor and splendid service.] 



CONTENTS 

CHAPTER PAGE 

I The Spell of South America ... I 

II Beginning the Journey 6 

III The Guano Islands 18 

IV Some Peculiar Customs 24 

V The Story of Peru 32 

VI The City of the Kings 37 

VII Impressions of Lima 43 

VIII The Peru of Today 48 

IX Matucana and the Verruga ... 57 

X Soroche 65 

XI The Southern Cross 74 

XII El Misti and Quinta Bates ... 81 

XIII Earthquakes and Indians .... 86 

XIV Cuzco 96 

XV Lake Titicaca 108 

XVI Bolivia 113 

XVII La Paz 124 

XVIII Arica 130 

XIX Tacna 139 

XX The Cross on the Mountain ... 144 

XXI The Nitrate Fields 148 

XXII The "Tin King" 152 

XXIII Valparaiso 158 

XXIV Santiago and Christobal Mountain . 165 
XXV The Christ of the Andes .... 173 



Contents 



CHAPTER PAGE 

XXVI The Bird of the Andes 184 

XXVII Mendoza 188 

XXVIII The Pampas 193 

XXIX Buenos Aires 201 

XXX Estancias 208 

XXXI Montevideo 213 

XXXII Brazil 218 

XXXIII Rio de Janeiro 223 

XXXIV The Tijuca Jungle 236 

XXXV The Trees of Brazil ...... 243 

XXXVI Turning Homeward 252 

XXXVII Sao Paulo 258 

XXXVIII The Snake Hospital 267 

XXXIX A Model Penitentiary 275 



ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 
Fountain in Plaza de Mayo, Buenos Aires . Frontispiece 

Cathedral, Payta, Peru 26 

A Street in Payta, Peru 26 

Lake of the Incas 27 

The Author on the Throne of the Incas .... 27 

Hall of the Inquisition, Lima, Peru 38 

Great Cathedral at Lima, where Pizarro Is Buried 38 

Cathedral Entrance, Lima, Peru 39 

Santa Rosa de los Monjas, Lima, Peru .... 39 

Cathedral, Lima, Peru 52 

San Marcos University, Lima, Peru 52 

Old Spanish Church, Pisco, Peru 53 

Convent of San Francisco, Lima, Peru .... 53 

Indians, Cuzco, Peru 60 

Llamas in a Street at Matucana, Peru ... .60 

Oroya Railroad in the Andes, Peru 61 

Crest of the Andes 61 

Landing a Passenger (Mrs. Harrison) at Mollendo, 

Peru 76 

Casa de Torrey Tagle, Lima, Peru 76 

Harvard Observatory, Arequipa, Peru 77 

Cathedral, Arequipa, Peru 77 

Street in Cuzco, Peru 98 

Cathedral at Cuzco, Peru 98 

A Narrow Cavernous Street in Cuzco, Peru ... 99 



Illustrations 



PAGE 

Gateway, Cuzco, Peru 99 

Ruins of Ancient Inca Forts, Cuzco, Peru . . . . no 

Town of Juliaca, Peru no 

Rapid Transit in Chile in 

Group of Llamas Resting in 

La Paz, Bolivia . . 126 

A Gathering of Indians in La Paz, Bolivia . . . 126 

Balsa Boat 127 

Group of Indians at La Paz 127 

Cathedral, Santiago de Chile 170 

El Morro, Arica, Chile 170 

The Capitol, Buenos Aires 202 

Cathedral, Buenos Aires 202 

Vista in an Argentinian Estancia 203 

Marble Spanish Monument, Buenos Aires . . . 203 

An Argentinian Estancia 210 

Municipal Theater, Santos, Brazil 210 

Restaurant in Rio de Janeiro 226 

Cathedral, Rio de Janeiro 226 

Botanical Gardens, Rio de Janeiro 227 

Avenida Central, Rio de Janeiro 232 

Municipal Theater, Rio de Janeiro 232 

Rue de Paysanda, Rio de Janeiro 240 

Sugar Loaf, Rio de Janeiro 240 

Municipal Theater, Sao Paulo, Brazil 268 

Snake Farm Near Sao Paulo, Brazil ...... 268 



BELOW THE EQUATOR 



BELOW THE EQUATOR 

CHAPTER I 

THE SPELL OF SOUTH AMERICA 

HAD anyone told me a month before I started 
to South America that I should really go I 
should have heard the statement with surprise. 
True, for years my husband and I had cherished 
the hope that some day we might visit this wonder- 
ful country where the snow-capped mountains 
dwarf the Alps, their smoking volcanoes loftier 
than any the rest of the world knows, and where 
lies a glorious sheet of water higher than the 
Rockies! But when the opportunity came we 
were almost unprepared to realize it. 

It chances that the man to whom I am married 
is one who could never be counted as a drone 
among his fellow-creatures. During most of our 
life together his has been a career of public duty, 
having served Chicago as mayor five terms, as 
did also his father, Carter H. Harrison, whose 
namesake he is. These duties had always held him 
so closely that he was never willing to spend more 
than twenty-one consecutive days outside its limits. 
How, then, could we visit any portion of the globe 

1 



Below the Equator 



which lay more than a hundred miles away? And 
yet — strange people and strange countries have 
always called to us. The rapid advancement of 
any country, its manner and means of achieving 
progress, were always studied closely by both of 
us. We love old ruins, temples, and had made as 
much of a study of antiquities as we could. Dur- 
ing these years it had been with a feeling of envy 
that I had seen my friends come and go. But as 
a devoted wife I was never willing to leave the 
man whose highest duty, we both believed, lay in 
staying at home. Thus it happened that when the 
time came that we really felt we might indulge 
in this long-desired wish to journey to strange 
lands, we scarcely knew where to begin. A terrible 
tragedy in Europe had horrified and saddened the 
whole world, and little we dreamed then that later 
we would, for humanity's sale, be obliged to take 
part in it. 

The war, of course, made Europe out of the 
question, so South America seemed to beckon us. 
The spell, the lure of this far-away land, was upon 
us both. We determined to start at once. So it 
came to pass that in about a month all prepara- 
tions were complete. Trunks were packed and 
we were off to the land of the Southern Cross, the 
land of great countries, wonderful cities, mines of 
wealth untold. We were really to see the towering 
Andes and gaze in wonder at the shimmering blue 



The Spell of South America 3 

lakes and the streams which rush down the moun- 
tain sides, looking like fluttering white ribbons 
against the red sandstone slopes. It was hard to 
believe, but at last we were off to this seductive 
country. We left Chicago on the second day of 
December, bearing in mind that in the land below 
the equator the seasons are reversed and that it 
would be summer there when we arrived. 

When reading the history of South America 
one must always remember the policy of the Span- 
ish invaders. As a conquering race their aim was 
to crush out the vanquished foe and never to absorb 
any useful feature the latter might possess. His- 
tory records that wherever the Spanish arms have 
been victorious this has ever been the case, and it 
has often been a matter of speculation among great 
writers as to what the result would have been had 
a higher standard of morals been theirs. Spain's 
accepted belief was that whatever she did was the 
best for the people. She viewed with distress any 
good emanating from another nation. "A differ- 
ence from me is a measure of your absurdity." 
This was her standard. This self-satisfied dogma 
she carried out in all her conquests. During her 
supremacy over the Moors she endeavored to blot 
out every characteristic they possessed, with no 
thought of any future benefit to Spain. The same 
treatment followed the conquering of the Jewish 
population. Thus, when the Spaniards arrived in 



Below the Equator 



South America the kind reception accorded them 
by the natives counted for nothing. They enslaved 
the people, treating them cruelly, and in their 
search for gold forgot every law of humanity. 
Horrible stories are told of their cruelty, one of 
which I will mention as an example. It is related 
by Padre Casas that when a famine threatened 
among those whom they had made slaves, the 
Spaniards killed daily a certain number of the 
unfortunate victims, that they might serve as food 
for their beasts of burden. Surely history fur- 
nishes no greater instance of hideous barbarity. 

The Spanish historians, of course, claim that 
these actions were only in accordance with the 
spirit of the age. But the civilized world differs 
from them, and common opinion is that in spite 
of many acts which revealed qualities of bravery, 
the early days of Spanish rule in South America 
were nothing of which to be proud. It cannot be 
denied, however, that the Spaniards possessed per- 
sonal courage. As soldiers they were invincible. 
They won their way in the face of incredible hard- 
ships. To gain their ends they crossed bare 
stretches of arid desert, and, although tortured 
with thirst and gnawed with the pangs of hunger, 
they never complained. Sword in one hand, the 
cross in the other, missionaries and soldiers alike 
did a stupendous work. It must not be forgotten 
that the policy of the Catholic Church in South 



The Spell of South America 5 

America brought about in many ways the orderly 
conduct of the natives. The unparalleled efforts 
of this church in the early days established there 
the religion which now has so firm a grip in South 
America. 

In the early days of the history of this country 
the Pacific slope of the Andes was very different 
from the Atlantic side. The Spaniards found at 
Cuzco, and the many cities ruled by the Incas and 
their tribes, great communities high in civilization. 
The people lived under settled conditions, had 
towns and roads, and cultivated agricultural fields. 
It is deplorable that the conquerors did not encour- 
age them to preserve their institutions while adopt- 
ing the more modern civilization. One of the 
greatest mistakes Spain ever made was the crush- 
ing out of the individuality of these tribes, killing 
all ambition within them by enslaving them. 

Though the Spaniards recognized at once the 
great possibilities of South America in her wealth 
of material and precious stones, they seem to have 
forgotten conscience and all humanity. They were 
willing to face terrible hardships in this world and 
the loss of heaven in the next with their desire to 
attain this wealth. However, the belief of those 
early explorers and conquerors has been verified. 
We know that we have today in this country a land 
whose possibilities in wealth have not been exag- 
gerated. 



CHAPTER II 

BEGINNING THE JOURNEY 

FROM the Isthmus of Panama we sailed via 
Cia: Peruana de Vapores, on a Peruvian 
steamer, the Urubamba, commanded by Cap- 
tain Steers. All Peruvian steamers, by the way, 
bear the names of the rivers comprising the source 
of the Amazon. A stiff breeze was with us. The 
air was cool, the boat clean, and the food good. 
Early the next morning, however, I awoke under 
the impression that I was on a farm. Somewhere 
in close proximity I heard cattle lowing, chickens 
crowing, ducks quacking, and lambs bleating — 
soothing sounds which gave promise of the nice 
long rest we had planned ! The barnyard we car- 
ried, however, held one pathetic note. Each day 
we wandered in the vicinity of it and could not help 
becoming interested in the inhabitants. All of a 
sudden, however, we began to miss familiar faces. 
Day after day the tragedy continued, and we were 
impressed deeply with the truth of the old couplet : 

We may live without poetry, music, or books, 
But civilized man cannot live without cooks. 
6 



Beginning the Journey 



This charming menagerie was located just be- 
neath our cabin. There was no possibility of 
escape from the delightful music, so we resigned 
ourselves to it. Day and night we enjoyed it. The 
boat carried its meat in this manner, killing what 
was needed for each day. In that climate it is not 
possible to keep meat longer. 

On board we were a motley but interesting 
crowd. Many nations were represented. In addi- 
tion to English, one heard French, German, Ital- 
ian, and Spanish spoken. Our most prominent 
passenger was the greatest bullfighter in the world, 
from Mexico. He was accompanied by his " Car- 
men," and they attracted much more attention than 
did the owner of the richest mine in South Amer- 
ica. " Carmen " was a delightful little piece of femi- 
ninity. She occupied a first-class cabin, while he 
went steerage. She owned a brilliantly colored 
macaw, and the two sat on deck daily talking to 
the screeching bird. The man was a most incon- 
gruous sight. Picture, if you can, a man of ath- 
letic figure and thick neck, wearing the daintiest 
of pink-satin slippers, high French heels, and the 
finest of silk socks ! 

As we journeyed along we listened to many 
marvelous tales of the country we were about to 
visit and of the hardships we would have to endure 
in the interior. By the time we arrived at our 
point of departure for the interior we felt not 



Below the Equator 



unlike the intrepid Spaniards themselves who first 
entered it. But, imbued with their spirit of enter- 
prise, we were equally undaunted in our desire for 
adventure. The first of our many surprises came 
to us in crossing the equator. We had supposed 
that we would be stifled with the heat. Instead, 
we were wrapped in steamer rugs, wore fur coats, 
and were still cold. Hopes of a delightful soft air 
and sunshine vanished. We were told that the cold 
weather we were encountering would continue for 
thousands of miles down the coast. The Atlantic 
side is warm, even hot. But the western side of 
the continent is cooled by the great Antarctic cur- 
rent — the Humboldt current, as they call it, in 
honor of the illustrious traveler who first observed 
and explained it. It carries up from southern 
Chile to a distance north of the equator a vast 
body of cold water which chills both ocean and air, 
frequently enveloping everything in clouds of fog. 
In fact, these fogs are so heavy and frequent as to 
cause anxiety to the navigator, for the impene- 
trable mist makes traveling dangerous between the 
Isthmus and the Gulf of Guayaquil. Along the 
coast of Colombia and Ecuador magnificent for- 
ests are grown. The heavy rains come in summer 
— the wet season. But at the boundary line be- 
tween Ecuador and Peru the conditions change and 
there is a rainless tract which extends down the 
coast as far as Coquimbo and Chile. Here the 



Beginning the Journey 



Antarctic current causes heavy and frequent mists 
because the land is warmer than the ocean. But 
these mists provide the only moisture the country 
has, as no rain ever falls there. For nearly two 
thousand miles the coast is dry and sterile. It is a 
dismal, barren desert for all this distance, except 
for an occasional river made by the snows of the 
Andes. Only where these rivers empty into the 
ocean does one find a strip of green. 

We passed many charming islands. The Gala- 
pagos were too far away for us to see, but we knew 
that the United States was trying to buy them 
from Ecuador. The latter country neither needs 
nor wants them, but, like the proverbial dog in the 
manger, she refuses to let go. One very pretty 
island is called La Plata, and it is here that Sir 
Francis Drake is said to have hidden two hundred 
thousand pounds of gold, the money he captured 
from the Spaniards. A charming little hamlet on 
one of the islands is called Saint Esmeraldas. A 
large church picturesquely situated on an eminence 
made us long to stop and go through it. Flooded 
with sunshine, it looked attractive, set in the heart 
of those barren hills. Oh, what a lonely country 
in which to live ! 

Steaming up the beautiful Gulf of Guayaquil, 
we entered the mouth of the Guayas River. In the 
distance were dim gray mountains. We were fast 
approaching our first port, Guayaquil, Ecuador — 



10 Below the Equator 

the prettiest spot on the western coast, but, alas, 
the most unhealthy ! Guayaquil is never free from 
the yellow fever and the bubonic plague. It is the 
pest-hole of the Pacific. As we sailed up the river, 
however, glimpsing the city for the first time, it 
was hard to believe that its reputation was de- 
served. Like the whited sepulcher, its horrors are 
concealed, and that which we could see called forth 
only admiration. Ecuador is not by any means 
the most progressive of South American coun- 
tries. The deadly yellow fever has been practi- 
cally exterminated from every portion of South 
America except the Amazon River. It seems a 
shame, therefore, that lovely Guayaquil should 
have so bad a reputation. Havana, Colon, Rio de 
Janeiro, and Santos, even beautiful New Orleans 
in our own country, have all been purified and ren- 
dered safe from this deadly disease which once 
ravaged these cities. Therefore it is not only 
deplorable, but criminal, that such a menace should 
be permitted to continue in Guayaquil. But until 
her sanitation is looked after the development 
of Ecuador will be slow indeed, if not actually 
arrested. 

It must be remembered that Ecuador was a part 
of the disputed territory which led to the sangui- 
nary struggle between Atahualpa and his brother 
Huascar— a struggle which gave to Pizarro his 
opportunity of conquering Peru. The Ecuadorians 



Beginning the Journey 11 

were the last to feel the revolutionary impulses 
which were born when the power of Spain was 
broken, and it was not until Bolivar, the Liberator, 
and San Martin, the Argentine general, had kin- 
dled the torch of liberty that Ecuador made any 
attempt to break away from the old allegiance. 
Its history since then has been turbulent, but only 
a few of the men who have been tossed up by the 
seething and successive revolutions have been men 
of marked caliber. Most of them have been self- 
seekers, degraded in character and of small intel- 
lect. The result has been that Ecuador is the worst 
governed and the most backward of all the South 
American countries. 

As an illustration: in January, 19 12, a piece 
of news leaked out which revealed a savagery 
almost incredible. The generals Alfana and Mon- 
tero, who were at the head of the latest liberal 
revolt, were defeated by the government forces, 
and those in power set about to punish them. 
Montero was president of the dissolved revolu- 
tionary junta. He was taken from prison, dragged 
into the public square, where a great fire, already 
lighted, awaited him. Into this the unfortunate 
man was flung, despite his resistance and cries of 
horror, and, after being half burned, he was 
dragged out, put into a vat of water, and then 
flung back into the fire. This was kept up, and 
his torture lasted an hour before death released 



12 Below the Equator 

him. This took place at Guayaquil. At Quito, the 
capital, two hundred miles away, they were doing 
worse things. Their favorite torture was cutting 
out the victims' tongues. 

All this seems incredible, yet it is a matter of 
history, and very recent history at that. No won- 
der that the South Americans feel that a watchful 
eye should be kept on Ecuador, whose greatest 
asset now is the Canal, and whose hopes of civili- 
zation also seem to lie in the fact that she is so 
near Panama. 

Ecuador has a treasure in its cacao groves. 
If she possessed nothing else they would make her 
rich. The cacao trees grow wild in the forests, 
many of them reaching forty feet in height. The 
bean furnishes the delicious chocolate and cocoa 
we drink, and its leaves furnish cocaine. 

Although we saw it later, we were disappointed 
not to get a view at this time of wonderful and 
far-famed Chimborazo, the mountain of snow. 
However, we had many glorious views of it later. 
It is one of the beauty peaks of South America 
and rises twenty-one thousand four hundred feet. 
For a long time this mountain held the honor of 
being called the highest mountain in this southern 
land, but the mighty Aconcagua in Chile, which 
Harvard University at Arequipa records as twenty- 
four thousand and sixty feet in height, has finally 
been awarded the palm. Majestic Chimborazo is 



Beginning the Journey 13 

best seen from the sea, and from the harbor its 
magnificent proportion can be studied; I think the 
evening, with its mellowing light, shows it to finest 
advantage. Those few minutes before night en- 
velopes it show its snow-crowned top and thrill 
one with the awe that its great height is sure to 
inspire. Neither could we see at this time Coto- 
paxi, five times as high as Mount Vesuvius, and the 
loftiest of active volcanoes. The mist and low- 
lying clouds prevented. One of the mountains, 
Cayambe, lies exactly on the equator, and for this 
reason is distinguished from any other snow- 
capped peak in the world. It is the highest moun- 
tain of the eastern Cordillera. Near Cotopaxi 
a beautiful truncated cone smokes continuously. 
About the snow-clad peak a gray and white cloud 
forms in the shape of an enormous branching tree, 
and near the snow line of the volcano is a huge 
mass of rock called Inca's Head. It is said to be 
the original summit of the mountain torn off and 
hurled below on the day of the execution of the 
Inca, Atahualpa. 

Clear and beautiful was the morning on which 
we cast anchor a quarter of a mile out from the 
town. Here we found a strange form of quaran- 
tine existing. We were not permitted to disembark 
if we desired to return to the ship. But we took 
both passengers and cargo aboard ! It was here 
that we purchased the finely woven Panama hats 



14 Below the Equator 

at just half the price at which they were first offered 
to us, obtaining for twenty and twenty-five dollars 
hats which would sell in the States for sixty and 
sixty-five. 

The finest Panama hats in the world are woven 
in southern Ecuador. It is the greatest distribut- 
ing center of the Panama hat industry in the world. 
Here they do not call them Panama, however, 
but Jipijapas, in honor of Jipijapa, the village 
where they are woven. They are made of the 
fiber of a palm which grows in Ecuador and Peru. 
The fiber must always be kept damp, and the best 
time to make them is in the cool of the evening. 
This has given rise to the story that Panama hats 
are woven under water and in the moonlight. 
The weavers in Ecuador are considered the most 
skilful in all the southern countries. Their deli- 
cacy of touch is equal to that of the finest lace 
makers in the world. They told us here of a hat 
once woven for the King of England, so exquisitely 
fine that it folded into a watchcase. All that we 
saw were soft and durable and rolled together 
without the slightest injury. 

It was here that we said good-bye to a charming 
old French priest, Pere LeGris, who was on his 
way to Quito, He had some difficulty in landing. 
On account of the trouble this country had with 
the Jesuits many years ago, Ecuador has since 
barred all foreign priests from entering her ports. 



Beginning the Journey 15 

However, his letters got him through. The Jesuits 
were so powerful in the early days of Spanish 
America that they were regarded as having super- 
natural wisdom. They were said to have actual 
knowledge of events before they occurred, or at 
least at the moment of happening. As proof of 
this a story is told to the effect that when the 
Peruvian government, fearing their influence and 
their power, decided in secret session in Lima to 
exile them for political reasons, the swiftest of 
messengers was sent at once to Cuzco, four hun- 
dred miles away, to apprise them of the fact. 
When the messenger reached Cuzco he found all 
the priests ready with their baggage packed, stand- 
ing before the gates of their monasteries. Their 
marvelous system had not failed them. They had 
learned of the decision of the secret session in 
Lima as soon as it had been made. Their own 
system of obtaining information had brought them 
the news before the fleetest of known messengers 
had been able to do so. 

Guayaquil was for Pere LeGris the beginning 
of a trip of a year's duration — a journey of 
recreation in the hope of regaining his failing 
health. He was going to Quito. We were sorry 
to lose him. In his dignified way he possessed a 
keen sense of humor and kept us much interested 
and amused by tales of his experiences. One story 
he told was simply delicious. A young woman, 



16 Below the Equator __/ 

observing that he traveled without a trunk, carry- 
ing only a hand bag, approached him. She had 
excess baggage to the amount of a thousand 
pounds. She pleaded with him to relieve her of 
one trunk so that she might get through the cus- 
toms house without having to pay. Pere LeGris' 
humorous description of his consternation at the 
thought of claiming as his own a trunk filled with 
a woman's dainty lingerie while fellow-priests 
looked on and waited for him during its inspec- 
tion, was certainly funny. Needless to say, he 
gently but firmly refused the request and the lady 
was obliged to pay the awful excess exacted on 
baggage to a South American port. 

The American consul, Dr. Godding, a personal 
friend, delighted us with a visit here, bringing with 
him large baskets of delicious and, to us, strange 
fruit. For two days we lay in port enjoying these 
delightful specimens and basking in the glow of 
the southern sunshine. We now realized fully 
that we were in South America. Gorgeous big 
macaws with brilliant yellow and blue plumage 
were brought aboard. The colors of the smaller 
screeching parrots were simply exquisite. Many 
vendors came also with tiger skins and small mar- 
mosets. 

We found no mosquitoes here and although we 
knew that the extreme slenderness and delicacy 
of this deadly insect prevented its flying over three 



Beginning the Journey 17 

hundred yards we still felt safer to sleep under 
netting the two nights we were in port. The pecu- 
liarity of this mosquito, the stegomya, is that only 
the female bites and gives the yellow fever germ. 
The Ecuadorians are immensely wealthy. Many 
of them are charming people and well educated. 
But at present all hate Americans. Their potent 
reason for disliking us is the railroad built to 
Quito. The Americans cheated the Ecuadorians 
shamefully in the contract and feeling still runs 
high about it. The present consul, Dr. Godding, 
with his charming Uruguayan wife, have lived in 
this unhealthy spot for many years. With all 
hygienic laws respected and the house screened 
they fear nothing. They keep in their home a 
wonderful little bird called cacigua. It knows its 
pet name of Chico-Chico. It flies about loose in 
the house and kills every fly and mosquito it sees. 



CHAPTER III 

THE GUANO ISLANDS 

WE HAD been warned that in going to South 
America we were taking our lives in our 
own hands. Everyone knows that in spite of her 
wonderful attractions there is much to be desired 
in her laws relating to hygiene. Many of the dis- 
eases which we would encounter, such as yellow 
fever and bubonic plague, we should have to risk, 
as there is no known preventive. We should take 
all possible precautions toward evading mosqui- 
toes and fleas, but there is no inoculation which 
could save us from them. Smallpox and typhoid 
could be prevented, or at least the system may be 
rendered immune by inoculation to all save a very 
light attack. Therefore, preparatory to this joy- 
ous expedition, we spent some time at home with 
a feeling of decided malaise, due to three inocu- 
lations of the typhoid serum, and I was certainly 
laid low by the smallpox inoculation, vaccination. 
Such an arm as I carried for six weeks after 
will not soon be forgotten, and the scar I shall 
carry to my grave. Disagreeable as all these 
precautions may be, however, they are absolutely 

18 



The Guano Islands 19 

necessary and minimize the danger of travel con- 
siderably. It is only the foolish person who 
disregards them and fatality often follows in the 
wake of those who do. 

After leaving the Isthmus we made it an abso- 
lute rule not to touch uncooked vegetables, or eat 
a piece of fruit which could not be peeled. Of 
course, we missed eating their delicious vegetables 
such as lettuce, radishes and celery, and fruit like 
strawberries. But in spite of our precautions in 
regard to inoculation for typhoid we were afraid 
of these death-dealing, though delectable foods. 
As in China, their greatest fertilizer here is human 
excrement, and the germs bred are not only those 
of typhoid but those of cholera and enteric troubles 
of all kinds. This knowledge gave us courage to 
refuse ail such food. Indeed, the character of this 
fertilizer disenchants one from wishing to sample 
any of their green vegetables. 

No traveler touches the drinking water here. 
The natives seem to be immune. We Regard the 
bottle of water at fifty cents a pint as a necessary 
extravagance, and the fact that we were paying 
so exorbitant a price for it had the usual effect. It 
made us thirstier than ever! Between us we fre- 
quently drank six or seven dollars' worth of water 
a day. This seems terrific, but all the way down 
the coast of South America until we reached Val- 
paraiso the only water we could get on the boats 



20 Below the Equator 

was Waukesha, White Rock, or Poland at a dollar 
a quart It is easy to figure, therefore, how two 
thirsty people can consume this amount. Of 
course, those who feel that they cannot afford this 
much money for drinking water carry a small 
alcohol stove and boil it. But this is a nuisance. It 
means a lot of extra baggage and every ounce of 
baggage counts. After we got into the country, 
however, we found distilled water at a reasonable 
price in the large cities and there we drank to our 
hearts' content. 

A fine and famous water throughout Peru is the 
Jesu water from a spring of that name near Are- 
quipa. It is a delicious beverage, slightly charged 
with gas, and except for the awful price we had to 
pay for it we enjoyed it thoroughly. This water 
is a great favorite in Peru, but I must confess that 
the sight of the name on the first bottle we drank 
gave us both a distinct shock. 

Petty thieving is one of the annoyances on ship- 
board along this southern coast. Personally we 
lost nothing, but several of our neighbors com- 
plained. As we steamed out of the Guayas River 
a man who had been in confinement for two days 
for stealing broke his arrest and jumped over- 
board. He had fully a mile to swim to shore 
and the current was terribly swift. But the 
steamer could not waste time by stopping. So if 
he ever reached shore I presume he considered 



The Guano Islands 21 

himself immune and started in on his little game 
again. 

No vessel is permitted to pass out of this river 
at night, as the channel is dangerous. But we 
sailed out early in the morning to find ourselves in 
the ocean again. From Guayaquil we moved 
toward Callao, spending the next eight days in 
making that port. These days were far from 
uninteresting. We passed many islands, one of 
the most curious of which is called Dead Man's 
Island, the shape of which is that of a man lying 
flat on his back, his face upturned to the heavens. 
Very distinct is the illusion. The features were 
plainly visible, colossal, and the sight is most un- 
canny. 

Off the southern coast of Ecuador on the 
island of Santa Clara is LaAmortahada, The 
Enshrouded Woman ; it is said to be a marvel in its 
exact representation of its name. Once seen, the 
colossal figure of the mysterious woman is never 
forgotten. 

The constant passing of pretty islands, the load- 
ing and unloading at the various ports, the strange 
cargoes, the curious birds and fish was a truly 
pleasurable experience. One can have no concep- 
tion of the number and variety of the South 
American birds until he has seen them. In addi- 
tion to the huge pelicans, millions of " guano " birds 
inhabit the islands bearing their name, and blacken 



22 Below the Equator 

the skies when they fly. The snow-white Guano 
Islands hold thousands of these birds and often in 
the evening about dusk we would steam into a solid 
mass of the feathered creatures resting on the 
water. The boat would be obliged to plow its way 
right through them. Thus disturbed they would 
rise quickly and, flapping their wings in the water 
as they rose, they made a sound like heavy rain. 

For years the guano trade brought in millions 
of dollars to the southern countries, for it is known 
to be the greatest fertilizer in the world. The 
South Americans sold it to the European govern- 
ments and it yielded them an immense income. 
This trade, however, has dropped off considerably 
as the guano is almost exhausted from the tre- 
mendous demands for it. 

The Incas themselves were not ignorant of the 
value of these Guano Islands. They carefully 
preserved and protected them. The quantities of 
birds we saw were equaled if not surpassed by 
the number of fish— dolphins, porpoises, sharks, 
whales, sting rays, and shoals of smaller ones. The 
ocean is alive with them. They say that every bird 
on the coast eats about six pounds of fish a day. 
We could well believe it and still know that they 
never lack for food. We frequently entered a 
shoal of the smaller fish which would be miles in 
length. The fish would lie so thick that one could 
not place a knife between their bodies, and the 



The Guano Islands 23 

captain told us not infrequently they clogged the 
machinery until the boat was obliged to lay to 
until it could be cleaned. And all the time the 
delightful cold air of the Humboldt current was 
with us, so that we endorsed the Spanish exclama- 
tion we were constantly hearing, Que brisa tan 
hermoso (What a refreshing breeze). 

My husband and I both speak German and 
French, but we figured to really enjoy South 
America we should know Spanish before leaving 
Chicago. We looked about for the best way of 
getting a quick knowledge of the language. For- 
tunately we found one of the Gordon Detwiler 
schools for languages in Chicago. We took the 
business man's course, of Prof. Pedro Cezon and, 
though we had only time for the half, it was 
amazing what he taught us. Like my vaccination, 
it took well y and, sinking deep, was firmly im- 
bedded so that with the phrase books and grammar 
we made ourselves understood wherever Spanish 
was spoken. 



CHAPTER IV 

SOME PECULIAR CUSTOMS 

THE trade along the western coast of South 
America is enormous. Some of the richest 
cargoes in the world are shipped here. It is along 
the coast of Chile that the nitrate fields are most 
famous, although in Peru they have also the 
salitre, which is the Spanish name for it. Rice, 
corn, sugar, and, of course, gold and copper are 
taken on many of the boats, and the bananas alone 
would pay for the running of the steamer. Often 
we carried ninety thousand bunches, and just here 
I beg to interpolate a word in regard to the peons 
who transfer these cargoes. I can honestly testify 
that they are not afraid of work, for I have seen 
them lie right down and go to sleep beside it. 

During all our stay in South America I found 
the siesta a most annoying thing. When one is 
rushed to catch a train or make connections with 
another steamer it is then that he realizes to the 
fullest extent that he is in the land of manana. 
The peons sleep or idle as they feel inclined. As 
far as their waiting tasks are concerned " any old 
time will do." In every country of South America 

24 



Some Peculiar Customs 25 

the siesta is taken daily. From eleven until three 
all work is stopped and the shops are closed. 

On account of her moist climate Ecuador grows 
some of the most magnificent trees in the world. 
There is a giant one called the ceiba, a cotton tree, 
and when it blooms all know that the wet season 
is near. The cotton produced from it is a great 
staple, beds, pillows, cushions, etc., being made 
from it. I cannot say much in favor of the pillows, 
however. They are about the hardest specimens 
that I have ever felt beneath my head. Yet it was 
the only kind we encountered throughout South 
America until we reached the eastern coast. An- 
other tree here, known as the balsa, is very large 
and twenty times as light as cork. Rafts and boats 
are made of it and one sees great numbers of them 
everywhere. No matter how frail the little boat isj 
one feels safe in it. It cannot sink even in the 
heaviest sea. 

Late in the afternoon, while looking at the beau- 
tiful coast, the green suddenly disappeared as com- 
pletely as if a section had been cut out with a knife. 
Vegetation and fertility were gone absolutely. 
From here on down the Chilean coast all was bar- 
ren and sterile. The soil of Peru is really rich 
and beautiful. It is only the absence of rain which 
makes it sterile. Wherever there are streams and 
rivers the soil becomes green and fresh. But the 
rivers are far apart. On all this long strip of west- 



26 Below the Equator 

ern coast there are but sixty-eight rivers fed by the 
Andes and emptying into the Pacific. 

It was here in Payta too that that glorious 
flower, the mesem bryanthemum, grew in such pro- 
fusion. We had seen it in its magnificent pink 
bloom in California, but we never failed to acclaim 
it wherever we saw it. 

Also at Payta I saw for the first time a man in 
deep mourning. Even his hat, a straw one, was, 
absolutely black, and the women were all en luto. 
Afterward it seemed to us that the whole of South 
America was en luto. These southern people seem 
to take their greatest joy in mourning. Babies 
from two to six wear it, and it was a depressing 
sight. I met a charming Chilean couple, Senor 
and Sefiora Mardones, and the former told me 
that for four years his wife had worn mourning 
for her mother. For two years she had never left 
the house except to go to mass, not even to go for 
a drive. She was a brilliant musician, but would 
not touch her piano until the four years had ex- 
pired. She was about to take up her music again 
and was spending a good deal of time on the boat 
reading it over and tapping her fingers on a chair. 
But nothing would induce her to try the piano until 
the fourth anniversary was past. She was a refined 
and traveled woman, but when I expressed surprise 
she said, " Bien, Sehora, que quiere Vd. que yo 
hag a? Es la costumbre de mi pais " (Well, madam, 



n 






Photo by Carter H. Harrison 

Lake of the Incas 
On the Transandean Railway 




Photo by Carter H. Harrison 

The Author on the Throne of the Incas 



Some Peculiar Customs 27 

what shall I do ? It is the custom of my country) . 
Whereupon I remarked to myself that their ways 
are certainly not our ways. 

As I have already said, we had scarcely left the 
Isthmus of Panama when we began to observe the 
change in customs. The first breakfast at seven, 
consisting of coffee and crackers, was the desayuno, 
a luncheon served in the forenoon was almuerzo. 
Here also we began to observe the peculiarity of 
the Christian name. Bible names were frequent 
and many of the children bore the name Jesus. 
We would frequently hear the name called out on 
shipboard, and when we reached Lima, in many 
of the narrow streets, signs bearing biblical names 
were numerous. One barber had outside his door 
the name " Jesus, the Nazarene." It seemed very 
blasphemous to us but was really not so to them. 

The days on the Pacific were perfectly wonder- 
ful, but the nights — . Alas, many of them were 
filled with the music of the fog horn and the ever- 
present thought that in the impenetrable mist, 
running as near the shore as we were, the sea was 
dangerous. Many a night I lay awake, watching 
the captain through an open window, muffled to the 
ears in his overcoat, studying his chart and all 
the time that awful siren blowing at full blast. At 
last, however, we sighted Callao, in Peru, and 
just beyond it lay beautiful Lima, city of churches, 
home of the great Santa Rosa! 



28 Below the Equator 

To a Catholic what thrills the thought of visit- 
ing Lima brings ! I was all eagerness to leave the 
ship, but once more, alas ! it was to be some days 
before I was to have this pleasure. And they 
were anxious days, too, for a terrifying experience 
seemed to be hovering over us. After we sailed 
from Guayaquil three suspects were discovered on 
board and we were thought to be carrying both 
yellow fever and bubonic plague. When that yel- 
low flag went up over our ship our consternation 
was indescribable. Personally, I had forty flea 
bites that night (it is the flea which carries the 
germ of the plague) and consequently I was not 
easy in mind until the time for the developing of 
the disease had expired. 

We waited for the doctors to make a test of 
the suspects' blood We next learned that the re- 
port of the presence on board of the plague, 
although it had been carefull concealed from 
us, had been wirelessed in to Callao and the 
authorities were so wrought up over it that they 
would not permit us to land. Our yellow flag 
waved prettily over us. But it was a signal to all 
who saw it that we had the plague on board. 

A distinguished general in full uniform came 
out in a little yacht with some fellow-officers, took 
a look around the sea, talked through a megaphone 
and then went away. The fog settled down upon 
us, but at least we were in port and I hoped to 



Some Peculiar Customs 29 

sleep a little that night. Here again I was dis- 
appointed, however. The Peruvian women are 
very pretty, but, like most of the sex, they like to 
talk. Two who were located near my cabin had 
high, shrill voices, and they proceeded to use them 
most of the night. Also, the doctors ran back and 
forth talking continuously, and there seemed to be 
a lot of red tape, but the passengers learned of no 
new developments. The next day the captain told 
us that the whole city was in arms at the thought 
of our getting on land. The town had already a 
good deal of malaria and typhoid. Evidently they 
did not wish to add anything more. One could 
not blame them, but it did seem to us that nurses 
should be sent to attend the sick. An old 
Frenchman said to me in the morning: "The 
natives here live like animals. Life is held lightly. 
If a man is stricken with some dreadful disease 
he steals off in a corner, covers his head and waits 
for death. Nobody cares." 

They tested one boy's blood (they had already 
given him the bubonic serum) and we were here to 
await developments. It was very monotonous. 
We watched seals playing near us and studied the 
small boats which came out to bring us food. We 
were interested in families talking to their friends 
who could not come aboard, and watched them 
taking off numerous little kegs of gold. We were 
supposed to be carrying eight hundred and fifty 



30 Below the Equator 

thousand dollars in gold, but the little kegs were 
so numerous that there seemed to be much more 
than that. They were unwilling to tell us how 
much there really was, and there was a good deal 
of red tape about its delivery. The officers on 
guard were well armed. The captain and his 
officers signed books and all bowed and scraped 
before separating. 

Another night settled down on shipboard, but 
the sunset was magnificent. Clouds wrapped the 
mountains and lay over the Island of Lazarus, 
where the detention hospital is, and they became a 
mass of color. They changed from crimson to 
gold and spearlike shafts of pale yellow shot across 
the crimson. The mountain stood dark and sharp 
against the clear sky and the view was superb. The 
blue ocean beneath us lent beauty to the already 
lovely scene. It was glorious. Y los reflejos en el 
agua era admirables (The reflections in the water 
were perfect). 

On the third morning the doctor announced to 
us that the suspects did not have yellow fever — 
that what he had taken for the black vomit was 
something else. We were told that we might leave 
the ship on the completion of the third day, which 
would be about five o'clock that afternoon. In the 
meantime one of the suspects fthe plague patient) 
had been brought up to the best position on deck, 
said position being immediately between our cabin 



Some Peculiar Customs 31 

and the captain's quarters. The young man was 
in a screen cage, but his attendant went in and out 
frequently, and if there was danger of contagion 
surely we who slept only about six feet away ran 
that danger. But in spite of our fears we found 
that we were quite human after all. We often 
went and spoke to the boy (he was only twenty) 
and did what we could to help him. He began 
to improve. We were permitted to leave the ship 
but were never afterward able to learn the fate of 
the boy. 



CHAPTER V 

THE STORY OF PERU 

THE world's records contain few more fairy- 
like narratives than the well-attested story 
of the early civilization of Peru. In many of its 
aspects this civilization was equal to any that the 
world has ever known. The history of the Incas, 
those children of the sun who migrated from the 
north to the interior islands and country and estab- 
lished Cuzco as the center, the capital of a great 
empire, is little short of marvelous. There had 
always been a marked contrast between them and 
the surrounding tribes, their civilization being 
more sound and humane. Its keynote was intelli- 
gent socialism. The citizens supplied the needs of 
the aged and infirm. They cared for the widow 
and the orphan and the soldier in active service. 
In their enlightened society, poverty was unknown. 
They were splendid agriculturists and shepherds. 
Their high mountains were cultivated to the snow 
line. They had aqueducts, bridges, and good roads 
connected with the sea. Irrigation on thoroughly 
sound lines was practiced and they tamed the wild 
animals, such as the llamas, alpacas, etc., until they 

32" 



The Story of Peru 33 

were suited to domestic use. Truly the Incas were 
a great people, different from the squalid Indians 
around them. Yet this splendid dominion fell a 
prey to the Spanish adventurer, Francisco Pizarro, 
who, though able and daring and resourceful, was 
cruel and treacherous. Pizarro arrived in Peru 
at the moment when the old Inca's two sons, 
Atahualpa and Huascar, were fighting for the 
division of their father's property, which had been 
left to them jointly. Pizarro, by treachery to the 
victor, took advantage of the situation and con- 
quered Peru. 

Nearly everyone knows of this adventure of 
Pizarro. It was in 1524. Hearing rumors that 
the country in the south was marvelously rich in 
gold, he made his first expedition to Peru. He 
landed at Tumbez, on the Gulf of Guayaquil, 
where he found a busy city. Convinced by this of 
the wealth of the country, he decided that he 
would return to Spain and get permission to make 
his conquests. In his adventure he took Diego 
Almagro and a priest Hernando de Luque, and in 
1 53 1 started back to Tumbez. He went on down 
the coast and founded a city, Piura. While trying 
to get reinforcements to make his invasion he 
learned that Atahualpa and Huascar, two Inca 
princes, were fighting. Pizarro had only two hun- 
dred men. Imagine his bold daring to attempt the 
conquest of a great country with so few. How- 



34 Below the Equator 

ever, sixty-seven of these were cavalrymen, and 
horses had never been seen in this country before. 
Therefore they struck terror to the stoutest hearts. 
Before starting on his expedition across the 
Andes, an almost impossible feat, he learned that 
Atahualpa had conquered his brother. At various 
points along their journey, as they climbed the 
twelve thousand feet or more in the rarefied air 
and the piercing cold, they were met by envoys 
from the successful prince bearing beautiful gifts 
and royal messages of welcome. With bold faces 
the army of two hundred entered the city and the 
very next day Pizarro sent an invitation to Ata- 
hualpa to dine with him. The Inca prince came 
unarmed and in royal state to the plaza. Instead 
of meeting him in a friendly way, Pizarro de- 
manded that he swear allegiance to Emperor 
Charles and become a Christian. Atahualpa 
indignantly rejected this request, whereupon 
Pizarro, incensed at his refusal, turned his cav- 
alry upon the unarmed Indians. There fol- 
lowed a scene of merciless slaughter. Atahualpa 
was seized and made prisoner. Fifteen million 
dollars in gold were demanded as his ransom and 
he was accused of many crimes. The money was 
actually and cheerfully paid by the Incas for the 
release of their prince. But Pizarro, after taking 
the gold, refused to release him. He asked 
Atahualpa whether he would prefer to be burned 



The Story of Peru 35 

alive or strangled. He chose strangulation. Thus 
was he put to death after the most shameless 
betrayal of the obligations of hospitality. The 
account of this treachery is one of the most brutal 
records in all history. It was thus that the con- 
quest of Peru was accomplished. After the death 
of their prince the Indians made little resistance. 
Pizarro then went on down the coast and on the 
banks of the Rimac founded a city which he called 
the City of the Kings. This is Lima. 

This was the beginning of a period of dissen- 
sions and murders which lasted for many years. 
For nearly three centuries Spanish viceroys ruled 
the country and it was not until 1 824, at Ayacucho, 
on the highlands of Peru, that the last battle of 
independence was fought. Then the whole of 
South America was liberated from the tyranny of 
Spain and the realms of the Incas were free to 
develop a new civilization. 

Although in the history of Peru the figure of 
Pizarro stands out more prominently than that 
of any other man, his intimate friend, Almagro, 
must not be forgotten. He acted as a foil for the 
scheming Pizarro. Almagro kept all his pledges. 
Pizarro was notorious for breaking his. Pizarro 
grew to hate his fqrmer friend and when at last 
he captured him, he had him foully dealt with and 
killed. But the friends of Almagro were many. 
They bided their time, and on the twenty-sixth of 



36 Below the Equator 

June, 1 541, when Pizarro was at the height of 
his fame, he met his doom. A desperate band of 
conspirators broke into his palace and killed him 
just as he arose from the dinner table. What 
was once said of Charles I may also be said of 
Pizarro, namely, that nothing in his life so be- 
came him as his manner of leaving it. Receiving 
a deadly thrust in the throat, he put his finger in 
the blood, made the cross on the floor, sank down 
upon it and expired. 

With all his faults — and they were many — 
Pizarro was a great man. Yet, with hundreds of 
statues erected everywhere in Peru, there is not 
one to be found of Pizarro. Hero worshipers, 
as the South Americans are, they ignore him com- 
pletely. Yet what would South America be save 
for this same Pizarro? 



CHAPTER VI 

THE CITY OF THE KINGS 

LIMA at last! And the very first day we 
were there we attended mass in the famous 
old cathedral. Here we were shown the skeleton 
of Pizarro, who must have been a giant from the 
size of his bones. This wonderful cathedral not 
only equals but surpasses all descriptions ever 
given of it — superb in its paintings, carvings, and 
altar of gold leaf. Lima has so many churches, 
and one is almost bewildered by their beauty and 
sumptuousness. Their carvings of cedar, mahog- 
any, and rosewood, the rich silver and gold orna- 
ments, altar and tables of solid silver, leave one 
almost breathless with amazement. 

It was in Lima that Santa Rosa, the only saint 
canonized in America, was born. Her remains 
repose in the church of San Domingo under the 
altar, but she is represented everywhere in almost 
every church. She is really the patron of the 
whole of South America, the West Indies and the 
Philippines. Besides being a great saint, she was 
a very beautiful woman and enthusiasm runs high 
about her even after all these years. Lima has a 

37 



38 Below the Equator 

hundred and seventy-five thousand inhabitants. 
She calls it two hundred and fifty thousand, but 
this includes Callao and some neighboring towns. 
The high expectations we had been led to expect 
of South American courtesy and hospitality were 
realized in Lima. The American minister, Gov- 
ernor Benton McMillin, and his highly educated 
and beautiful wife, were more than cordial. Their 
courteous attention to all strangers was proverbial, 
but they certainly overwhelmed us with kindness. 
Through them we met some of the most distin- 
guished notables of the Peruvian government and 
many representatives of their highest society. As 
an illustration of their warm welcome, knowing 
that we were interested in their city, Minister 
McMillin obtained for us a view of the wonderful 
Prado Museum. Senor Prado himself was ill, 
and his entire family absent from the city at their 
summer home. But he was graciousness itself. 
Everything in this beautiful museum (which was 
also his home) had been closed for the summer, 
but he sent up his servants and had the whole place 
dusted and sunned. A member of his family, a 
brother, came up for the occasion of our visit and 
we spent a whole beautiful day there. They served 
us luncheon, with wine and champagne, so much 
trouble were they willing to take for strangers 
who were sufficiently interested to come and see 
their country. It was wonderful, we thought. 








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The City of the Kings 39 

Senor Prado's great palace is not visible from 
the street, the usual high wall being built in front 
of the house. The door from the street being 
closed, we walked into a beautiful patio just back 
of which his truly magnificent house presented 
itself. The house and museum contain some forty 
rooms. He has reserved a dozen or more for his 
own personal use, and these rooms (which we 
were permitted to see first) were furnished in the 
most magnificent way conceivable. Superb carv- 
ings, wonderful sets of buhl, containing enormous 
sideboards, pianos, chests of drawers — we had 
never even imagined anything so magnificent in a 
single room. His private collection of fans, mar- 
velously painted and hundreds in number, was 
worth a fortune. His old ivories are known to 
be very rare, his rugs and paintings invaluable. 
His collection of old silver and tapestry is truly 
marvelous. Yet all this was not what we had 
come to see. We hastened through, being forced 
to give but a coup d'oeil to these rooms in 
which we would like to have spent days. It 
was the museum itself which was the objective 
point. 

Before leaving Serior Prado's private apart- 
ments, however, I must speak of the lovely little 
chapel where, when the family are at home, mass 
is held for them twice a week. To me it seemed 
wonderful to be able to have mass said in one's 



40 Below the Equator 

own private home. This chapel, though small, is 
perfect in every detail, exquisite in its fine old 
embroidered altar cloths, handsome silver and 
gold ornaments, and beautiful fresh flowers. 

The museum surpasses anything of its kind that 
I have ever seen. Senor Prado's wealth, which is 
seemingly inexhaustible, has enabled him to gather 
together these rare and wonderful specimens. It 
delighted me to learn that this splendid collection 
has been catalogued and rendered so interesting 
by the indefatigable efforts „of a woman, Senorita 
Prado, the accomplished sister of the owner. She 
was possessed of a brilliant mind, and through 
her mentality and zeal many things were discov- 
ered. For instance, she came across some curious 
Chinese inscriptions in her studies, and none of 
the Chinese experts could interpret them satisfac- 
torily. She started at once to study Chinese, and 
after many years spent in learning the language, 
gave an interpretation which has satisfied the 
scientists. Senor Prado has every specimen of 
the Inca and, indeed, of the pre-Inca work, from 
the finest gold and silver ornaments to the oldest 
copper pans. Their feather ornaments, em- 
broideries, weavings, their gorgeous frescoed 
bird and animal designs, and several of those 
frightful reduced heads, which are so hideous 
in their attraction, are included in this collec- 
tion. 



The City of the Kings 41 

I must pause here to say a word about these 
heads. They are, I think, the most startling 
things to be seen anywhere in the world. The 
human head is reduced from its natural size and 
brought down to about four inches. The Indians 
preceding the Incas were possessed of the weird 
and curious knowledge of the method of doing this* 
work. The human likeness in these miniature 
heads is wonderfully preserved and they have a 
most weird appearance. The object of this 
strange craft was the characteristic desire of the 
Indian to carry the scalp of his foe at his belt, just 
as the North American Indian carried his. To 
show his warlike prowess, the Indian of Peru 
strung his victims' heads together. It is not known 
now by what process this reducing was accom- 
plished. The severed head is apparently not cut 
in any way in order to remove the bones, yet the 
bone of the skull has entirely disappeared. Prob- 
ably some acid was injected which caused the bone 
to dissolve, and in this way reduced the head to 
this miniature size. One head that we saw was 
that of a woman with long blond hair, proof that 
the preserved heads were not only those of the 
native Indians, but also those of some unfortunate 
whites. To me this fiendishly ingenious work of 
the savages was horribly fascinating. 

As has already been said, the Prado Museum 
is considered the finest in the world, but unless one 



42 Below the Equator 

has been through it he can have no conception of 
the rare and wonderful treasures hidden therein. 
Neither is it possible to describe them adequately 
in a book of this character. 



CHAPTER VII 

IMPRESSIONS OF LIMA 

THE University of San Marcos is a beautiful 
building, founded in 155 1, one hundred years 
before Harvard received its charter. The Peru- 
vians are very proud of this university, and it 
covers all branches of learning. 

The Hall of the Inquisition is one of the great- 
est sights of Lima. The famous ceiling is a work 
of art. It is of dark red cedar, richly carved, 
and its work is worthy of the best days of Spain. 
It is one of the few relics of antiquity still in per- 
fect condition. It is, indeed, a joy to see, and we 
all gladly lay flat on our backs upon a sofa to 
gaze upward and enjoy the picture of the skill of 
those wonderful artists, long since dead and gone. 

For three centuries the Holy Office of the In- 
quisition held its seat here in Lima. Many tales 
by partisan writers are told of the wickedness 
enacted by it, but this is a point which has been 
long and often disputed. It was unquestionably 
a great power in the Spanish government. Its 
rules were rigid and its men fearless in enforcing 
them. Those days bred recklessness in the hearts 

43 



44 Below the Equator 

of men and it was only by stern control that the 
Catholic Church was able to hold her own in the 
presence of men who were little short of barba- 
rians. The Hall of the Inquisition was the court 
of decision, and though there may have been times 
when injustice was committed, and even cruelty, 
yet on the whole the Inquisition did much to 
uphold the law and thereby help the state. 

There are many fine old mansions in Lima which 
are preserved intact. One which is particularly 
noticeable has a richly decorated balcony, a gem 
of the domestic architecture of the seventeenth 
century, and it is astonishing that in spite of earth- 
quakes and fires and the many other evils which 
have been visited upon Lima it has remained so 
perfect. The city contains also a very fine zoolog- 
ical garden, and we certainly were fortunate in our 
choice of a time to visit it. A few minutes after 
we had been there one of the lions got loose, ter- 
rified everybody, and did considerable damage to 
the garden. The plazas in Lima are many and 
charming; the streets are narrow and quaint; 
the pavements in the shopping district are laid 
in mosaics and are most attractive; the stores 
are rich and fine. A glance from the open door- 
ways of the busy streets usually gives one a glimpse 
of a paved court, sometimes with plants, flowers, 
small trees, and often a fountain. Around this 
court are the main rooms of the dwelling. 



Impressions of Lima 45 

The fruit sellers, who carry their baskets on 
long poles, are interesting and picturesque, and 
the milkmaids, perched high on mules or horses, 
and carrying great cans, are a most novel sight. 
The policemen are forever blowing their whistles. 
Their signals seem incessant and worrying. Sell- 
ers of lottery tickets abound and are most annoy- 
ing, and one sees soldiers, newsboys, Cholos, and 
lovely senoritas, the latter wrapped in their man- 
tillas of lace, on the busy streets. Even the little 
girls wear these mantillas, and the baby faces of 
four and six certainly look adorable in this coquet- 
tish headdress, which is most becoming to young 
and old. 

The women of Lima all go to mass every 
morning. The streets are filled with these devo- 
tees, all wearing the mantilla over the head. 
After the service they do their shopping. I 
created quite a sensation on my first appearance 
at the cathedral, because I was wearing a chic 
French hat! I could not understand the audible 
flutter which passed over the congregation, but 
when it was explained to me I quickly removed 
my hat and replaced it with a blue motor veil. 
This was even worse ! The brilliant color of the 
latter caused more excitement than the hat. Need- 
less to say, the next day I, too, donned the man- 
tilla. 

It was in Lima that we were introduced for the 



46 Below the Equator 

first time to a first-class South American hotel. 
It had no private baths, and only two or three of 
any kind for the whole house. This in itself was 
bad enough, but worse was yet to come. In case 
one wished a bath before retiring, one was com- 
pelled to pass, en negligee and carrying one's own 
bath towels, through a brilliantly lighted drawing- 
room filled with charmingly dressed women and 
men in evening clothes! It was a trifle discon- 
certing. The assembled multitude did not hesitate 
to stare. Still, it was the custom, and the farther 
we went the worse it got. In time, however, we 
became hardened and what natural modesty we 
took with us when we started seemed to have dis- 
appeared. This bath-room arrangement, by which 
one can reach the bath-room only by going through 
the drawing-room, is a feature of most of the 
private residences as well as the hotels. 

Life in Lima must be one perpetual joy. The 
people are refined, cultured, and traveled. They 
form a society which has a peculiar charm. 
Many of their homes are palaces. A glimpse at 
some of them impressed us with the realization 
that they could not be other than a cultured people, 
for a man's home is indicative of his character. 

Many gente decente ride in splendid equipages 
through the streets of Lima, and here are found 
many beautiful women; but, beautiful as these 
women undoubtedly are from a North American 



Impressions of Lima 47 

standpoint, the slight down which many carry on 
the upper lip mars their faces. However, their 
lovely eyes, their wonderful skin, and graceful 
carriage of the head make them fascinating and 
attractive. The men are handsome and extremely 
courteous; in fact, courtesy and extraordinary 
politeness characterize the whole of South 
America. 

It never rains in Lima, yet one's clothes are 
always damp. One never has a fire, yet one is 
always cold and wishing for one. I could well 
understand the Incas' worship of the sun while in 
this country. During my six weeks in Peru the 
sun rarely shone all day. The fogs, of course, 
are responsible for this atmospheric condition. 
But despite her earthquakes, despite her damp and 
murky air, which often depresses the tourist, who 
has expected to find here the brightest of sunshine, 
this charming City of the Kings is fascinating to 
the highest degree. It still retains the old Span- 
ish air flavored with that romance which all 
Spanish cities retain. The people of Lima enjoy 
their life in their own way, and its antique charm, 
together with the enjoyment of the modern, every- 
day pleasures of life, creates in the traveler the 
desire to stay with them. 



CHAPTER VIII 

THE PERU OF TODAY 

LIMA was especially interesting to us, as in- 
4 deed it must be to all North Americans, 
because it was the seat of Spanish government 
for nearly three hundred years. From 1533, 
when Pizarro overpowered it, it remained the 
Spanish capital of South America until 1825. The 
Peruvians are a proud people, and, although their 
hot climate militates against their energy, there 
is every evidence that they are energetic and up-to- 
date. Peru was the last country in South America 
to become a republic, but they seem never to have 
regretted the step, and though they are still prone 
to revolutions, usually they govern themselves 
pretty well. In fact, they claim that their internal 
wars are constantly stirring them up to better 
deeds, as each dissenting party endeavors to prove 
itself better than the one it opposes. 

They are a brave lot of people and once believ- 
ing that they are right they are hard to intimidate. 
As an instance of this, a few years ago President 
Le Guia found himself in the midst of a hot 
quarrel. One afternoon he was seized by his 

48 



The Peru of Today 49 

enemies, taken from his office, and placed with his 
back against the statue of the Liberator, Bolivar. 
A pistol was placed at his head and he was ordered 
to sign a certain paper. He believed himself to 
be facing certain death. There seemed no way in 
which he could be saved. The howling mob sur- 
rounded him, but he refused to sign the paper. He 
said he would rather die than be a traitor to his 
country. Fortunately for him, at this moment a 
squad of soldiers came riding by and, seeing the 
trouble in the street, broke through and rescued 
him. 

The story of Peru reads like a fable. Anti- 
quarians declare that the first occupants of the 
country were a blond people. This was, of course, 
before the time of the Incas. They claim that 
both the Chinese and the Buddhists had a hand 
in the making of the country in the early days. 
This is an open question, but ruins of beautiful 
temples, houses, and entire cities have been un- 
earthed showing that there was a prehistoric race 
which had attained a high degree of civilization. 
In their burial grounds, gold and silver ornaments 
and vessels of rare carving go to prove that there 
is foundation for this belief. They had, evidently, 
wonderful skill in the manufacture of practical 
things. They used cotton and twine and they 
wove cloth. These mute witnesses certainly de- 
note the intelligence and thrift of the people who 



50 Below the Equator 

lived long before the time of the Incas. We all 
remember Plato's description of the fabled conti- 
nent of Atlantis. Can it be that a ridge of land 
once made it possible to travel across to South 
America ? 

Speculate as one may, there is no question that 
a cultivated and highly intelligent people occupied 
Peru in prehistoric times, and they accomplished 
many things. Miles of beautiful roads were laid 
through the mountains, and the mountains them- 
selves were terraced to the very top. Ditches and 
canals were dug to irrigate the land, all done in 
such a thorough way that engineers of the present 
day cannot improve upon them. A wonderful 
suspension bridge built by the Incas of Peru still 
exists. As a foil to all this splendor came Pizarro; 
but, robber and thief though he was, he equaled in 
courage and bravery any of the men he treated so 
cruelly. 

In 1820, when Bolivar sent out his lieutenant, 
General San Martin, with a small army of five 
thousand men, the Spanish domination was threat- 
ened. For two years there was constant fighting. 
But at the end of this time that splendid young 
officer succeeded in wresting Peru from the Spanish 
crown forever. Since then she has been independ- 
ent. Out of gratitude the Peruvians made General 
Bolivar president, but after a time they tired of 
a president who was never in their own country 



The Peru of Today 51 

(he was also president of Bolivia, which country 
was named for him), and, becoming discon- 
tented among themselves, a revolution broke out 
which resulted in the defeat of Bolivar's rule in 
Peru. 

They made a quiet little soldier named Ramon 
Castilla president in 1845. He had had much to 
do with the war of independence, but was always 
on the side of good government. He was the man 
who brought over Chinese coolies to work the 
fields, and also, unfortunately for his country, he 
brought over seventy Basque peasants from Spain. 
Some of these latter were killed in a row and 
Spain demanded an apology for the loss of her 
peasants and several million dollars in exchange 
for their lives. This Peru refused, and Spain 
began war. But when her ships attempted to land, 
the sea was so rough that she had to abandon hos^ 
tilities. However, despite this fortunate ending 
to the war, Peru's troubles had but begun. Once 
she owned hundreds of miles along the Pacific 
coast. But the Republic of Chile was crowding 
her hard, realizing that the nitrate fields along 
the coast were invaluable. Peru had already made 
a secret alliance with Bolivia, and therefore when 
Chile offered to arbitrate in regard to the coast 
line, ignoring Bolivia, Peru, because of her secret 
alliance with the latter country, could not accept 
the terms. 



52 Below the Equator 

The Chilean navy was much more powerful 
than that of Peru, and as Chile was in command 
of the sea she had every advantage. Antofagasta 
was chosen as the principal point from which to 
fight. Ten thousand men were landed there, and 
in spite of the brave front which the Peruvians 
put up, the Chilean army reached the heart of the 
nitrate country at a little town called Tacna. The 
Peruvians were in bad luck, for just at this time, 
when they needed all their forces to concentrate, 
another of their frequent revolutions broke out in 
Lima, and, although they recognized that their 
own country was at the mercy of Chile, like a 
pack of untrained children they stopped to fight 
among themselves in the interior. The United 
States, trying to be a peacemaker, offered to act 
as mediator. Peru refused, saying that she could 
care for herself. Alas ! her pride laid her low. 
The Chileans were successful and took posses- 
sion of Lima. For five years their flag waved 
over the capital. Five thousand Peruvians were 
killed and as many taken prisoners in the constant 
battles. At the end of that time, which was in 
1886, the Chileans withdrew from Lima, ratifying 
a treaty of peace which had been made three years 
before. This treaty provided that revenue from 
the fertilizer gathered on the Guano Islands 
should be kept by Peru, but that Chile should 
keep the provinces of Tacna and Arica for a 




Photo by Carter II. Harrison 

Cathedral, Lima, Peru 




Photo by E. M. Newman 

San Marcos University, Lima, Peru 




.;,:* 



Photo b\ r Carter H. Harrison 

Old Spanish Church, Pisco, Peru 




Photo by E. M. Newman 

Convent of San Francisco, Lima, Peru 



The Peru of Today 53 

period of ten years, at the end of which time 
a popular vote should be taken by the people as 
to whether they would cling to the one country 
or the other. The losing country would take ten 
millions of dollars from the other. But the two 
countries have never been able to agree upon 
terms. Chile still keeps the nitrate beds and Peru 
still tries to recover them. 

I asked a Peruvian on board our vessel whether 
they ever expected to regain these two beautiful 
towns. His answer was, "Only at the point of 
the sword." 

Most of the architecture in South America was 
a distinct disappointment to us, although there 
were many beautiful buildings and their churches 
(the old ones) are of incomparable beauty. As 
a rule, the modern house was not really attractive. 
They are rather incongruous and heavy in style. 
The interiors are charming, and exquisite taste 
seems to have been shown there. But the outside 
as a rule is unattractive. There were exceptions, 
of course. 

The cathedral in Lima, however, is beyond crit- 
icism. It is the most beautiful and the most won- 
derful thing of its kind in all South America. Of 
all the pictures we had conjured of it, of all the 
dreams we had had of it, the sight of it exceeded 
in beauty our highest expectations. The chancel 
and altar are very handsome, with heavily carved 



54 Below the Equator 

chairs and magnificent old paintings. Everything 
about the cathedral is very ornate, but its impres- 
siveness cannot be denied, and the building is so 
large that four ordinary churches in Chicago — 
such as the Holy Name Cathedral — could be set 
down in it and still leave room. 

All the churches of Lima are rich in beauty; 
practically all the old ones can be classed as a 
delight to the eye. Strange that a people who 
must have been imbued with the sight of these 
beautiful spires pointing to the sky, or these inte- 
rior pillars which held graceful arches with a 
lightness which is inspiring, should have lent them- 
selves to some of the uncouth modern facades for 
their own homes. But, after all, perhaps, contrast 
is the nicest thing in life. The beautiful would 
not be so startling were it not for the accentuation 
of the ugly. 

In the church of San Augustin in Lima there 
is a famous statue of Death, carved by a monk. 
It is a wonderful thing, though terrible in the 
illusion it gives of being the skeleton of a man. 
It is regarded as a precious relic and one has to 
have a card of admission from the superior before 
he may go behind the altar to see it. 

Great preparations were going on at the time 
we were there, in January, for the three hun- 
dredth celebration of the birth of Santa Rosa, 
though the anniversary would not be until August. 



The Peru of Today 55 

But since she is the only American saint ever 
canonized, and is the beloved of all the southern 
world, the preparations even at that early date 
showed the magnificent scale upon which they 
intended to honor this great saint. We truly 
regretted that we could not remain to witness the 
festivities. The following October we received 
from a friend newspapers describing fully the 
superb celebration, and ever since we have had a 
new incentive to learn to read Spanish easily, that 
we might more thoroughly enjoy the description 
of the splendor and gaiety of those August days 
in Lima. 

Lima, at the foot of the sterile mountain, is 
irrigated in the valleys by the river Rimac. This 
is the greatest river on all the dry coast of the 
Pacific. It is a narrow stream, but a more turbu- 
lent one cannot be imagined. In its swift travel 
it passes some of the most romantic and beautiful 
scenery in the world. Its usefulness to Lima 
because of its powers of irrigation cannot be 
overestimated. We were destined to follow it 
more than once in its zigzag wanderings through 
the mountains. Its unmistakable roar greeted us 
often, echoing and reechoing across the great 
canons, quebrados. We got so that when we lost 
sight of it for a few moments we looked anxiously 
for it to reappear and greeted it as an old friend. 
We grew to love its dashing white cataracts, its 



56 Below the Equator 

clear limpid water, and its fine markings of green 
on either side. These, too, seemed like a long 
river stretching through the sterile mountains. 






CHAPTER IX 

MATUCANA AND THE VERRUGA 

WE SAW many pretty watering places and 
small towns, such as Chosica, but we 
stopped for several days' rest at Matueana, about 
eight thousand feet high, in the heart of the 
Andes. This little town has a special interest on 
account of its relics, which gave rise to a theory 
that there was once a pigmy city here and that 
the little people who inhabited it were expelled 
by ruthless invaders and compelled to flee over 
the mountains. Fortifications, houses, and sub-* 
terranean chambers still exist. The small size of 
the rooms, the doorways, only three feet high, are 
taken as evidence that little people lived here. 

Charming as this mountain spot was, however, 
I could not enjoy it. It is in this region that the 
dreaded verruga rages. This disease, peculiar 
to these mountain people, is seldom, if ever, cured, 
and it is never found below two thousand or above 
eight thousand feet, extending only about twenty- 
seven or twenty-eight miles in either direction. 
The disease is a horrible one — a breaking-out 
of hideous bloody warts, thousands of them, so 

57 



58 Below the Equator 

small that it takes a microscope to see them, 
sometimes under the skin. They are caused by 
the bite of a small insect. I was perpetually on 
the watch for that insect — a small gnat which 
flies at night. True, it was not the season for it, 
but I entertained a constant fear that there might 
be a repetition of the episode of the " early bird." 
I had no desire to be the "worm." 

Verruga is worse than cholera or yellow fever 
and more fatal than bubonic plague. It is con- 
fined to this small Andean zone in Peru and is a 
disease practically unknown to the medical pro- 
fession in other parts of the world. There is a 
good reason why this is so. All who have tried 
to investigate it have died in the attempt to analyze 
it. Between Chosica and Matucana, on the Oroya 
railroad, is the center of this deadly disease. The 
people of Peru think, therefore, that some poison- 
ous mineral or vegetable must cause it, for it is 
never known to break out in any other part of 
the country. And no matter how young or how 
strong a man may be, when he passes through this 
zone of death he takes a chance. People have 
been known to be attacked who merely went 
through on the train and never stopped at all, 
while people who remained a week or more, as 
we did, have not been troubled. The natives get 
it just as frequently as the whites, but they claim 
to know of an herb which is its only cure. In 



Matucana and the Verruga 59 

ninety-nine cases out of a hundred, however, it 
fails in its curative properties. At a certain point 
on the railroad there is a bridge bearing the name 
Verrugas. The story goes that the construction 
of this bridge occupied one year. The contractor 
employed one thousand seven hundred and twenty- 
six people, every one of whom had verruga. Hun- 
dreds of them died. The contractor sent to New 
York for medical experts. Seven came down to 
investigate the disease. Six of them died; the 
seventh was convalescing when a delirious native 
stabbed him, killing him instantly. This is an 
awful tale. Needless to say that I had practically 
not heard of this disease when I stopped at Matu- 
cana. The fleeting thoughts I had had in regard 
to it had not impressed upon me the fact that this 
heavenly spot was its center. It is said that one 
who has it and recovers never has a second attack, 
and that one's best chance to recover is to stay 
right here in this zone. A fine young American 
physician was the latest victim. He came, full of 
hope, with the ambition to make an investigation 
which would be of benefit to humanity and the 
medical world. But he took the disease and died. 
A very recent death, also, was that of the super- 
intendent of the Cerro de Pasco copper mines. 
He was from Lansing, Michigan. 

Let us hope that in spite of the awful record 
of this disease, science will yet conquer it. Like 



60 Below the Equator 

the terrible leprosy, however, there seems at pres- 
ent to be no cure. Of the two diseases, verruga 
is the more kindly. Death comes quickly. From 
the time it is contracted the patient knows that 
his hours will be few. But the leper knows that 
years may elapse before the end comes. Still, he 
has always the hope that before it does come, 
science may discover a cure. Thinking of the 
verruga makes me remember the deadliness of 
the snake bite in Brazil, for which the natives have 
discovered an antidote which works pretty well. 
They take the leaves of a creeper which grows 
in the poison districts of their tropical rivers, 
bruise them to paste, and make it into a small 
cake about the size of a five-cent piece. When 
one is bitten he is given one of these cakes to chew 
and must swallow all the saliva. This seems to 
produce heavy perspiration, and the subject usu- 
ally recovers. But the herb they use for the 
verruga victims saves only about one in a hundred. 
In spite of my uneasiness, however, I could not 
but be conscious of the beauties about me. The 
town is charmingly situated at the foot of the 
Andes, and here we had our first peek at the serra- 
nos, the sturdy mountaineers. Here also we saw 
the llamas for the first time. These pretty animals 
are regal and proud in their bearing. They step 
very lightly and they certainly look the royal part 
they assume. It is said that like royalty they die- 



Matucana and the Verruga 61 

tate. For example, no llama will carry more than 
a hundred pounds. No matter how craftily his 
master tries to deceive him, if one single pound 
be added to that weight, no amount of persuasion 
or beating will make him get up. 

Though we saw many llamas in Matucana, the 
greatest numbers are seen between La Paz and 
Cuzco. They are queer, graceful creatures, pos- 
sessing the legs of a deer, the body of a sheep, 
and the head and neck of a camel. They are 
white, brown, black, or particolored; their wool 
is long and thick, and they have big, beautiful, 
wistful eyes which look at you inquiringly. 

Here, too, we saw for the first time in the open 
the bird of the Andes, the royal condor, swooping 
down over the mountains. 

Of course the whole country here is Catholic, 
but the native Indian managed to work in a good 
deal of his own superstition. The cross is always 
to be seen in some conspicuous place, and at Matu- 
cana there are several shrines. But to the cross 
and the statue of Christ the Indian has added the 
Inca disk of the sun, in bright yellow. Beside 
this big sun face is the profile of the moon, in 
vivid blue, and there are bows and arrows, and 
a man's hand, beside which is a foaming glass of 
beer! Crowning it all, caught in the floating band 
of a lace scarf, is a crowing rooster! Strange 
mixture of Christianity and paganism ! 



62 Below the Equator 

We crossed the Andes six times, and each time 
it was but to discover more beauties. From the 
eight thousand feet at Matucana to the twenty- 
four thousand feet at Aconagua, the glories of the 
scenery are superb. From Matucana our next 
destination was the Cerro de Pasco mines — 
merely for the sake of the scenery, may I add. 
These mines are sixteen thousand feet in the air, 
and the road which took us to these heights is a 
miracle of engineering. Turning, twisting, run- 
ning through the tunnels, mounting steep grades, 
one is lost in admiration for the brain of the man 
whose conception it was and whose ability made 
it possible to achieve it, as well as for the stupen- 
dous endurance of the builders. Incidentally, the 
man who conceived and carried out this marvelous 
piece of work in Peru belongs to us. His name 
was Henry Meiggs, and he was a Californian. 
A monument to his genius tops a glorious moun- 
tain eighteen thousand feet high. The story of 
this man's life is most spectacular, and surely 
ought to be an incentive to the man who is down 
and out. For he went wrong completely and yet 
rose above all his past transgressions and made 
good. He fled from California a ruined man and 
a fugitive debtor. He even owed his laundress. 
But he must have had a conscience, for when he 
made a fortune he paid back dollar for dollar, 
with interest, and sent the poor washerwoman 



Matucana and the Verruga 63 

enough gold to keep her in affluence through life. 

In South America he found his fortune. The 
building of Chile's first railroad cleared him a 
million dollars. Another in Peru doubled this. 
Scheme after scheme, each more gigantic than the 
last, was successfully carried out, and finally the 
financial world became interested in a big contract 
between Meiggs and the Peruvian government. 
European loans were effected and Meiggs became 
the most influential man in Peru. His must have 
been a remarkable personality. His genius was 
unquestioned. His ability and dominant will car- 
ried everything before him. One of his peculiari- 
ties was that he never had a partner. He worked 
entirely alone. His personality was attractive, 
and no matter how great the provocation he was 
always master of himself. Wherever he appeared, 
he inspired confidence. In spite of his success, in 
spite of his having made good, he never again 
visited California. His trials there seemed to 
have given him a hatred for the place. Knowing 
the history of this remarkable man, we naturally 
took a keen interest in his railroad. Without 
question it is the most stupendous thing of its 
kind in the world. 

The grandeur of the varied scenes on this trip 
baffles all description. Here one is privileged to 
see the titanic forces of nature cast up in a won- 
derful mass of mountains and magnificent gorges. 



64 Below the Equator 

Through sixty-eight tunnels we traveled in one 
day. In one place the course of a turbulent river 
had been turned and made to flow through a 
tunnel because the engineer needed its bed for his 
road ! But this is only a small part of his achieve- 
ment. Twisting, corkscrewing along through 
these mountains, always climbing higher, one 
often sees three tracks below him, and no matter 
to what heights one rises he seems always to see 
more glorious ones above. 

We passed the terraced gardens of the Incas, 
the andenes, still kept in splendid cultivation by 
their descendants, and at last reached the snow 
line and the glaciers. The barren rock, in varied 
shades of yellow, red, and green, is bewildering 
in its beauty; and everywhere the stately llamas, 
with their proud carriage of head and dainty step, 
pass to and fro. The Cholos (Indians), in bril- 
liant ponchos and picturesque, wide-brimmed hats, 
add to the fascination. 



CHAPTER X 

SOROCHE 

AT THE headwaters of the Amazon — an 
altitude of sixteen thousand feet — we tried 
our pulses. Mine was eighty-two, my husband's 
seventy-six. We were delighted. The altitude had 
not affected us, although we were conscious of a 
slight headache. We had eaten nothing, having 
been told that this was the proper way to take 
altitudes. When we began to descend, however 
(we were to spend the night in Oroya, at thir- 
teen thousand feet), I was possessed with a desire 
to eat a piece of chocolate I had brought with 
me. I had not invested in the Peruvian chocolate 
because, delicious as it looked — well, someone 
had regaled me with a tale to the effect that it was 
mixed with blood to give it the rich color it pos- 
sesses. I didn't believe a word of it, but — I did 
not want the chocolate! Nice Irishism that, but 
the truth! As a general thing, chocolate does 
not agree with me, anyway, and just why I 
wished to eat it on this particular day is a thing 
I cannot explain. Perhaps exuberance of animal 
spirits, coupled with that rare atmosphere, bred 

65 



66 Below the Equator 

in me a courage which was reckless. Be that as 
it may, I ate it and drank some black coffee. In 
ten minutes I was really ill. By the time we 
reached Oroya I was almost blinded by headache. 
I had an intense nausea which was not active and 
therefore could not be relieved. My husband was 
not feeling very fit, either, but occupation at the 
moment saved him. He had to run and rescue 
our hand baggage from an Indian boy who per- 
sisted in carrying it to a second-class coach bound 
for still higher altitudes. I was left alone, sur- 
rounded by a howling mob of Indians, all talking 
Spanish so rapidly that I could not understand a 
word. It was eight in the evening and biting 
cold. Suddenly out of the chaos I heard my name 
spoken in faultless English. I looked up to see 
before me a beautiful woman. Without ceremony 
I handed her my bag and rug, saying: 

" Oh, please take these. I am going to faint." 
"Why," she said as she caught me, "what an 
awful case of soroche you have ! " 

In my dazed condition I caught the word about 
which I had heard so much — soroche/ It was 
like a dash of cold water in my face. It aroused 
me at once. 

"Soroche!" I exclaimed. "Have I soroche?" 
"About the worst case I ever saw," she replied 
firmly. 

Under the words I rallied beautifully! Her 



Soroche 67 



buoyant strength appealed to me as nothing else 
could have done at the moment. I was actually 
conscious of a little pride in my own achievement. 
I had soroche! Smiling weakly, I sat down at her 
command. / did not faint. After a few moments 
I asked who she was and how she happened to 
know me. I then learned that she was the wife 
of a young engineer, Thomas Lossing, whom I 
afterward found to be a very clever and brilliant 
personage, and that our kind friend, the American 
minister, Governor Benton McMillin, had tele- 
graphed her to meet us. He explained to her 
that in spite of our leaving so blithely and so con- 
fidently for the high spots of the Andes he had 
had some qualms as to our feelings when we 
arrived there ! 

When I had recovered a bit we went on a search 
for my companion. At last we located him and 
were then made comfortable for the night in the 
loveliest of cottages, where hot water was plenti- 
ful and soft beds made us forget our troubles. 
In the morning we both felt splendid, which, as 
I learned later, was considered remarkable, as 
soroche usually lingers several days. As to the 
malady itself, I cannot describe it. It is peculiar 
unto itself. All I can say is that it is the worst 
conceivable case of seasickness- — plus! 

In Oroya we saw the Yauli River, one of the 
headwaters of the Amazon. It is as yellow as 



68 Below the Equator 

the Tiber and as turbulent a stream. Above the 
town, perched on a high peak, are some charming 
ruins of an Inca village. Should one care to go 
across to the Amazon through Peru, he would be 
confronted with a nearly unbelievable fact. He 
would have to cross the Montana, an almost im- 
penetrable jungle, and it takes less time, actually, 
to go up to the Isthmus, on to New York, and 
thence down the Atlantic to the mouth of the 
Amazon in Brazil, than to cross Peru. For 
example, Iquitos, a town second in importance 
only to Lima in its big shipping interests, lies on 
the Ucayali — really the Amazon River — two or 
three hundred miles away from Oroya. If Oroya 
sends anything to Iquitos it must go just as I have 
described — up to the Isthmus, on to New York, 
and down to the mouth of the big river on the 
Atlantic ocean, then up the Amazon to the Uca- 
yali, and up that river to Iquitos. And it does 
this in from three to five days less time than it 
could be taken those two or three hundred miles 
across country lying between the two cities. Yet 
Peru touches Brazil ! Crossing the jungle is not 
only next to impossible but it is fraught with great 
danger. Here are horrible reptiles, and poisonous 
insects, and the shortest possible time in which the 
trip can be made from the interior of Peru is 
thirty-five days. 

At Chacatalpa, about twenty miles from Oroya, 



Soroche 69 



there lives a tribe of Indians, or natives, who are 
very fair. They have blue eyes and red hair, and 
the men wear long beards. They resemble the 
Caucasians. But we did not have time to visit 
them. These people are said to be the descendants 
of some pre-Inca race. 

The remainder of the time we spent in Oroya 
we had no discomfort from the altitude. Of 
course, if we moved too rapidly we were conscious 
that our hearts were beating fast, but if we took 
things slowly we were not in the least uncomfort- 
able. A very good rule to follow is, no exercise 
after ten thousand feet. Adhering to this, we 
got along very well and enjoyed the few hours left 
to us in this little mining town. The Yauli and 
the Mantaro rivers come together near this place 
and flow out toward the Amazon, which they join. 
We were constantly coming across these rivers 
which form the source of the Amazon. It always 
gave us a little thrill of romance, due to the fact 
that we knew we should not be able on this trip 
to see the real great river itself. 

A perfect day was chosen for the descent of 
the mountain. Again we crossed the snow-clad 
heights, looked upon their glorious glaciers, saw 
the terraced fields, the prancing llamas careening 
away from the train in their excitement, and again 
looked down the beautiful valley of the Rimac on 
our way to return to Lima, where we wished to 



70 Below the Equator 

spend another week. That week accentuated our 
love for this quaint old Spanish city. Neither of 
us will ever be content until we may return there to 
spend an entire winter. 

One amusing, but embarrassing, incident oc- 
curred the day before we took the steamer. No 
matter how bare one's bedroom may be in these 
South American hotels, one always possesses a 
sitting-room. There are no bedrooms to be had 
without the latter accompaniment. This is just 
as positive a statement as that there is no room 
to be had with a bath ! On this day I thought that 
before I finished my packing preparatory to taking 
our ship the next morning, I would wash my hair. 
So I got myself comfortably into a wrapper, with 
hair streaming down, and leaned over a basin of 
hot water to begin my ablutions. All of this I 
was doing in my sitting-room; as it was larger, 
there was more sunlight, and it was in every way 
more convenient. 

Fortunately, before plunging my head into the 
water I looked around. There, seated in a com- 
fortable armchair, with a book in his hand, was 
probably the most distinguished senator in Peru, 
Sefior Zegarro ! This man was very close to the 
president, was consulted on all important subjects, 
had been educated at one of the large universities 
in the United States, had a great deal to do with 
the building of the Panama Canal — or, rather, 



Soroche 71 



the endeavor of De Lesseps to build it — and was 
one of the most noted engineers in South America. 
He was a man of some fifty-odd years, and his 
individuality was as charming as his record and 
ability were great. For fully a minute we gazed 
upon each other without a word. I was horror- 
stricken, and he certainly looked surprised. How- 
ever, he arose to shake my hand, and in my dazed 
condition I permitted him to do so ! It took 
only a moment for me to recover myself, 
though, and, asking him to excuse me, I retired 
into the next room, slipped into a better looking 
negligee, twisted my hair into a Psyche knot, and 
returned. We chatted amicably for a little while, 
but with that bowl of steaming water between us 
I could not act as though nothing had happened. 
But he was equal to the occasion, and though he 
had seen me in this sorry plight, he was nice 
enough to pay me some charming compliments on 
the American negligee (my second one, alas!) ; 
yet I still shiver at the recollection of that en- 
counter. He had been ushered in and left to await 
me there by a stupid chambermaid, who, by the 
way, in Peru is always a he! When I reprimanded' 
him for having brought in a visitor without first 
asking my permission, he simply grinned. 
There is a Spanish proverb which runs: 
En cielo de sierra, cojera de perro, y 
Id g rim as de mujer, no hay que creer. 



72 Below the Equator 

Which means: " Distrust a mountain sky, a limp- 
ing dog, and a woman's tears." I should like to 
add to this, " and a he-chambermaid! " 

This same distinguished Senator Zegarro came 
to the United States only a few days after we left 
Lima, to try to interest some of our millionaires 
(to whom my husband gave him letters of intro- 
duction) in a railroad Peru is trying to build from 
Payta to the headwaters of the Amazon. It will 
be a wonderful thing if it is ever accomplished, 
and we are hoping that he may meet with success 
in his endeavors in the United States. 

I must not forget to speak of the flowers of 
Peru, which are singularly beautiful. The bellis- 
sima is the most exquisite pink blossom conceiv- 
able, and a dinner table decorated with it in the 
palace of Minister McMillin will always remain 
in my memory as the most delightful bit of 
color I ever saw. The table was a large one — 
places for twenty-four — and the slender trailing 
branches of this graceful vine covered with the 
tiny pink blossoms twining about the silver and 
cut glass was as charming a sight as we found in 
Peru. 

But beautiful as the roses and most of the 
flowers in Peru are, we were told never to smell 
them. I remember being presented with the larg- 
est and most gorgeous-colored violets, with the 
words, "Admire all you will, but do not bring 



Soroche 73 



them near your face." The reason is that a deadly 
bug often lurks therein, so tiny as to be imper- 
ceptible, yet once taken into the nostril it produces 
the deadly ute^an incurable cancer. We took 
no chances with the lovely things after hearing 
this. 

The public museum, too, is very interesting, but 
does not equal in any way the superb one of 
Sefior Prado. It contains some wonderful old 
Gobelins, and besides many Inca relics it possesses 
the Chavin Stone. 

The day had come when we had to leave Lima. 
we did so most reluctantly. We shall always 
carry an affection for it in our hearts. We shall 
always remember the pretty answer of friends 
to whom in parting we had said: " Es preciso que 
nos vayan" Their reply had been : " Dios guarde 
a Ustedes y feliz viaje" 



CHAPTER XI 

THE SOUTHERN CROSS 

WE LEFT Callao on the Peruvian steamer 
Montaro. We were charmingly fixed and 
our most agreeable French Captain Quesnal 
showed us many things of interest on the way 
to Mollendo. Once or twice we went through 
miles of ocean, clear as the blue waters, only 
blood-red instead of blue. It was an amazing 
sight. The captain said that this curious phe- 
nomenon had never been explained satisfactorily 
to him. Scientists claim that it is due to animal- 
cula. 

The desert coast proved interesting because of 
the novelty of the shipping. We certainly felt 
sorry for the poor beasts, the sheep, and the cows 
which were brought aboard. The sheep were 
hauled up by halters placed about their necks, 
and the cows usually by their horns. The latter 
are so dazed by this manner of bringing them on 
board that for some minutes they cannot move. 
Our kind-hearted captain told us that he did not 
permit this way of landing them except in a very 
rough sea. Usually they pass large bags around 

74 



The Southern Cross 75 

the middle of the animal under the stomach and 
bring them up that way. We passed several 
wrecked steamers. This whole western coast 
abounds in rocks, and, running as close as the 
vessels do to the shore line, steamers often meet 
with disaster. 

About one hundred miles south of Callao we 
passed the Chincha Islands, where we saw more 
birds than we had dreamed there were in the 
world. These are the greatest guano islands, 
barren rocks, but yielding tremendous treasures. 
The guano deposits in the beginning were 
sometimes two hundred feet deep. Today, at 
a distance — such is the deposit- — the islands 
shine snow-white in the sunlight, as if decked in 
snow. 

The Pacific is called calm, and usually it is, but 
occasionally it stirred up a pretty fair sea and then 
nearly all the natives were ill. They eat such rich 
food, and so often, that they seldom escape sea- 
sickness. Indeed, as soon as the women come 
aboard they immediately prepare for it. The 
Christian Science idea undoubtedly works well in 
this case. They believe that they are bound to 
have it, consequently one never escapes. Sugges- 
tion with them works perfectly. As my husband 
and I were not affected, they looked upon us with 
envy. 

We were nearing port one night when we got 



76 Below the Equator 

our first glimpse of the Southern Cross. The fogs 
had prevented us from seeing it earlier. Never 
shall I forget my thrill of pleasure when I looked 
upon it. Its five stars (indeed, its seven stars, 
because the two pointers are more glorious even 
than the constellation itself) are wonderful. Once 
having seen this brilliant cluster in the heavens, 
one is never able to forget it! And we who had 
been watching for it for so long and were des- 
tined to see it nightly for so many months never 
tired of the sight. 

On board were many Peruvian army officers 
and their families. The men are splendid, hand- 
some in their uniforms, and quite gorgeous look- 
ing, and always unfailing in their courteous polite- 
ness. As all educated people in South America 
speak French, we found no difficulty whatever in 
conversing. The women are pretty, but they dress 
badly and never take any exercise. They all wear 
very high French heels, and they looked at me 
with astonishment not unmixed with contempt as 
I took my daily walk on shipboard. 

Mollendo, Peru, is surely no place for a nerv- 
ous woman! Here we had the interesting but 
somewhat blood-curdling experience of being 
swung out in a chair to land! Many of the femi- 
nine contingent openly expressed a preference for 
death instead of the attempt to land in this fashion. 
The steamer lay half a mile out. The surf was 



m.WW:^ 




Photo by E. M. Newman 

Harvard Observatory, Areouipa, Peru 




Photo by E. M. Newman 

Cathedral, Areouipa, Peru 



The Southern Cross 77 

beating high. Yet with only the excitable fletero 
in his small craft to land you, it was really the 
safer way. I was put into the chair, told to hold 
fast, and then swung out into space. Fifty feet 
below was the swirling water, and I had visions of 
a few dozen man-eating sharks waiting in it for a 
possible accident! For a few breathless moments 
my feelings might have been described as anxious. 
But I am honor bound to say that no accident has 
ever been here recorded. Swarthy Indians in bril- 
liantly colored ponchos roamed the streets of this 
seaport. 

Mollendo to Arequipa ! It was a wonderful 
ride, most of which lay through the Desert of 
Islay. This is much like our Grand Canon of 
the Colorado in that it has the same brilliant 
coloring of rock. Reds, greens, blues, and yel- 
lows, a conglomerate mass of such richness that 
the eye would become surfeited were it not for 
the gray-white of the Crescent Sand Dunes. These 
latter are mysterious in the extreme, and a greater 
contrast to the riot of color on the mountains 
could scarcely be imagined. Like colossal half 
moons they lie, looking just as though they were 
carved out of stone. There are thousands of them 
and for hours we traveled through them. Smooth 
as concrete, they move across the desert at the 
rate of two or three hundred feet a year, climb- 
ing high mountains in their silent journey. We 



78 Below the Equator 

saw many of them half way across the mountains. 
They preserve their form. They are just as 
smooth as though cast in a mold. Mysterious, 
remarkable phenomena when one remembers that 
they are made up of tiny grains of sand. 

These sand hills, called medanos, are fifteen 
to twenty feet high and a hundred feet between 
their horns. They drift with their horns always 
forward under a steady wind which always blows 
from the south. Their shining sand looks like 
Watered silk. Sometimes they streak across the 
railroad track and cause a lot of trouble. Among 
all the wonders of South America it seemed to me 
that we never saw a greater curiosity than these 
medanos. In their slow movement and the pres- 
ervation of their dignity and form, never a grain 
seems to be spilled from the perfect mold in which 
they are cast. They reminded us of some royal 
procession of past ages caught and held upon this 
earth for us of modern times to view. 

The railroad, climbing between cliffs or run- 
ning along stretches of sand, mounts continually. 
Across each dreary or gay-colored mountain we 
climbed, always wondering what lay beyond the 
next. Getting to the top of the range, we had 
our first view of Pichu-Pichu and, in the distance, 
El Misti. This last is a volcano described as 
extinct, but it can scarcely be called that, for faint 
little curls of smoke sometimes come from its 



The Southern Cross 79 

crater. Its other neighbor is Chachani. Both 
these mountains are more than nineteen thousand 
feet high. But beautiful as they are, there are 
two that are grander still — Ampato and Coro- 
puna, which are over twenty-two thousand feet. 
There are but two mountains in South America 
which are higher — Illimani in Bolivia and Acon- 
cagua in Chile. 

The mountains we were viewing from the top 
of the range belong to the western Cordillera, 
which extends all the way north to Ecuador and 
Colombia. With this view we felt that we were 
really seeing the heart of the Andes. I can never 
adequately explain the strange beauty of this land- 
scape. Sterile and barren as it was, with the 
grimmest of walls and the absence of all life, the 
beautiful colors blending and mixing into each 
other gave the various mountains a sublime beauty 
of their own. The wide canons, where nothing 
lives, the jagged peaks holding in their hollow 
sides only the sterile rock (nothing green is seen 
here) possessed for us indescribable charm. It 
seemed impossible that such a sterile country could 
be so imposing, so fascinating in its barrenness. 
Nature, however, no matter how she shows her- 
self, whether in the green dress of cultivation or 
the white garments of the distant mountains, in 
the silver stream she sends to the ocean, or the 
barren stretches where not a blade of grass is to 



80 Below the Equator 

be seen, is ever majestic, impressive, and attrac- 
tive. 

The monotony of the desert is always relieved 
by its graceful shapes. These queer shapes are 
at all times a source of pleasure, and I have spent 
many an hour studying their curious forms. Their 
steep slopes cut by irregular canons are always 
mysterious. The lights from the heavens will 
change their color in a moment; the absence of 
clouds will turn a dark hollow into a witches' 
cauldron seething with molten gold. The con- 
stant curves brought new views of magnificent 
gorges, sometimes a thousand feet below; and 
always in the background we had El Misti and 
her wonderful companion beside her. When one 
remembers that El Misti is five thousand feet 
higher than Pike's Peak, surpassing in height 
every mountain in North America except Mount 
McKinley, one gets some idea of the heights of 
the Andes. 



CHAPTER XII 

EL MISTI AND QUINTA BATES 

IN LOVELY Arequipa, at the foot of El Misti, 
one should linger long. This is especially 
true if one is fortunate enough to visit Quinta 
Bates, the lovely home of an American woman 
there. In this delightful spot at the foot of the 
Fujiyama of South America one can dream only 
of beautiful things. Arequipa, with its sixty-two 
thousand inhabitants, boasts a wonderful cathe- 
dral and has about the prettiest plaza that we 
saw anywhere. The cathedral is very old and 
has been restored, but good taste has been 
shown in the restoration. Its whole appearance 
is dignified and charming. The fagade is par- 
ticularly impressive and its interior speaks softly 
of the Holy of Holies. How satisfying when the 
restoration of an ancient church becomes a neces- 
sity to see it done with taste and excellence ! How 
painful to have it offend the lover of the beautiful 
and the artistic! 

The foreign life here is marked and attractive, 
and the plazas are the places to see it at its best. 
The South Americans are especially sensible on 

81 



82 Below the Equator 

one point; their parks are beautifully kept and 
in constant use for their own pleasure. At cer- 
tain hours of the day the fashionable element will 
be found walking here, and it is then that one sees 
the lovely sehoritas and the gay caballeros at their 
best. Because of the very clear atmosphere of 
this region at certain times of the year, Harvard 
University maintains an observatory here. 

Our ride to the observatory we shall never 
forget. In a motor, through narrow streets ten 
to twelve feet wide, over the roughest of cobble- 
stones, we took our way. One man ran ahead to 
clear the road of llamas, braying donkeys, scream- 
ing children, and howling dogs. Men and women 
rushed out of the houses and, to add to the excite- 
ment, clamored loudly, whether at us or at their 
own motley belongings we could not determine. 
However, we reached the observatory in safety 
and were treated most courteously. They showed 
us their wonderful instruments and we examined 
many plates, of the stars which they had made. 
They do this work from June to December, be- 
cause then they have clear skies. They told us 
(what we had already noticed) that the stars are 
more luminous and brilliant in South America 
than anywhere else in the world. The two lower 
stars of the Southern Cross point directly to the 
South Pole. This is one thing which makes this 
constellation so important in these countries. 



El Misti and Quinta Bates 83 

There is no polar star there to correspond with 
our north star. 

We saw the photograph of a queer open space 
in the constellation of Orion, which was beauti- 
fully made, and many are the conjectures in regard 
to it. This open space reveals only a great lumi- 
nosity, but many scientists believe it to be a new 
world forming. 

Near Arequipa is the well-known Jesu spring, 
t'he delicious water to which reference has already 
been made and which we so enjoyed throughout 
Peru. These springs have a great reputation. 
The water, slightly charged with carbonic acid 
gas, comes up in a clear, effervescent pool from a 
beautiful gravel floor and has a mildly exhila- 
rating effect. The spring is in the midst of a 
volcanic region and the gravel floor is most 
attractive. 

There is a fine new hospital in Arequipa, said 
to be one of the best in South America. The 
nurses are those faithful, wonderful Sisters of 
Charity, so beloved by the Catholic Church and 
indeed by the whole world for their devoted work 
in almost every city on the globe. Arequipa has 
a delightful climate. It is sheltered from the 
winds by the mountains, but in spite of the fact 
that it was summer, we women were obliged to 
wear furs and the men light overcoats. It is about 
seven thousand feet above sea level and is one of 



84 Below the Equator 

the loveliest spots we found anywhere. The Chile 
River, which curves all about it, furnishes its 
irrigation and permits the inhabitants to have the 
finest gardens of beautiful flowers. 

The natives, especially the Indians, are very 
devout here. Their churches are always well filled 
and a striking feature is the open-air shrine where 
two or three devotees are always to be seen kneel- 
ing in prayer. As usual, these devotees are 
women. In South America, as in most places on 
earth, the Lord and Master of Creation seems, 
as a rule, to get prayer mainly from the feminine 
persuasion. With all woman's reputation for 
frivolity and lightness, deep down in her heart 
she is made of the stuff of martyrs. Certainly in 
the love of doing penance she outdoes the world. 
Perhaps it is her enthusiasm. Perhaps it is her 
deep and firm conviction that the world is better 
for prayer. Whatever the mystery — it exists. 
Often have I seen the so-called butterflies of 
fashion turn from the glare of the ball-room and 
the whirlpool of society, from a home which offers 
all the enticements and allurements of the world, 
to pass their time in a nunnery. Again, the most 
spoiled and most frivolous of souls will clasp to 
her breast a crucifix and hold it despite all the 
temptations or pleasures the world can offer. 

We spent one day at Tingo, a little oasis in this 
desert of rock and mountain. Here are glorious 



El Misti and Quinta Bates 85 

swimming pools in the open, a jewel of a little 
lake formed by the river and the beautiful moun- 
tain streams, alongside of which is a narrow strip 
of green cultivation beautiful in color. The large 
volume of water which pours continually through 
these swimming pools is astonishing. It was here 
that I learned something new, though the knowl- 
edge is old. When I ordered my eggs cooked 
three minutes I received some further information 
in regard to altitude. A two-minute egg at sea 
level takes six minutes to cook at this altitude. 



CHAPTER XIII 

EARTHQUAKES AND INDIANS 

EARTHQUAKES are greatly feared in Are- 
quipa, therefore the houses are very low. 
Also, they are brilliant in color — pink, blue, or 
green. The streets are hard cobblestone and 
streams of water drawn from the river cut across 
them. The Indian here looks something like the 
Arab and certainly resembles him in his indif- 
ference to cleanliness ! They make good servants, 
but they are the despair of the mistress of the 
house in regard to the care, or the lack of it, which 
they give to their own persons. 

No city in the world, it seems to me, has a more 
picturesque mountain landscape. There are beau- 
tiful churches, lovely plazas, and in spite of its 
reputation for earthquakes one would like to 
linger here indefinitely. Sunrise and sunset 
brought constant changes to El Misti. Often we 
arose before dawn to watch the sun rise over her 
and just as often sat in the evening studying the 
glow of the western heavens, marking every tint 
from the palest yellow to the deepest carmine. 
The line of perpetual snow on the top made it 

86 



Earthquakes and Indians 87 

peculiarly susceptible to change of color and it 
was fairy-like to see those white masses soften 
and melt into shades of pink and gold. The cone 
of El Misti is the subject of many traditions. They 
say that youths and maidens were once flung into 
the crater to appease the Fire Spirit, and one nar- 
rator relates that the only way to appease the Fire 
God was for the Indians to gather in solemn con- 
clave after a great eruption and offer sacrifices of 
sheep, fowl, and other live creatures. The In- 
dians offering these sacrifices dressed themselves 
in red for the occasion and, as they threw these 
live animals into the crater, begged on bended 
knee that they might be spared from sacrificing 
their youths and maidens. The wrathful deity 
seems to have been appeased, for the volcano has 
remained quiescent for many a year. 

Singular, is it not, that the legends of all coun- 
tries resemble one another so much? At Kilauea, 
in Hawaii, an exactly similar one is to be found. 
All primitive races deal a great deal with nature 
in religion and see spirits in all her remarkable 
objects. At Kilauea we had seen the white 
shrouded natives creep up the mountain side and 
throw their offerings of sheep and geese into that 
vast seething cauldron of everlasting fire, begging 
their Fire Goddess to grant them their particular 
request. Sitting in the brilliant sunset at the foot 
of El Misti, watching the lurid light from the 



88 Below the Equator 

heavens fade and change into the gray night 
shadows, we thought long and often of this 
mysterious link which holds the primitive man in 
his belief the world over. And level-headed as 
we were, we almost believed we saw, on the misty 
mountain top beyond the snow crown of El Misti, 
the old Inca in military array standing guard on 
his eternal watch. For this one legend of the 
mountains impressed us much. 

It was here that the first news of real war 
reached us. Bad for us ! The German ambassa- 
dor at Washington, Count von Bernstorff, had 
been given his passports. Our own country was 
now facing war in earnest. We were very unhappy 
and could only nurse a hope that things were not 
so bad as they were reported. 

It was with profound regret that we left Are- 
quipa and the glorious guardian of her beauty, 
El Misti. There is a great solemnity and never 
any monotony about the mountains. They rise 
up from their emerald woods and colored rocks 
to their ermine heights of snow with a calm dignity 
that is sublime. Sometimes in the gray light of 
a cloudy day they are cold, austere, almost tragic. 
Standing in kingly majesty, aloof, forbidding, they 
seem to say, "Approach me at your peril! Here 
in the distance we are safe from the prying eyes 
of your world. From our heights we scorn the 
idle gazers. Keep away!." At other times, when 



Earthquakes and Indians 89 

a cloudless blue sky arches above them and their 
glorious crowns of snow are twinkling like jewels 
in the radiant mid-day, or when at evening they 
take on prismatic tints from the setting sun and 
seem aflame with crimson, copper, and gold lights, 
they soften into friendliness and beckon us closer. 
It is at such hours as these that the mountain lover, 
bold and confident, feels within him the power of 
the soul that reaches out into the Infinite and is 
filled with a supreme love for these vast and silent 
spaces. Henceforth the eternal frosts upon the 
pointed peaks or the clouds that veil the breast of 
the mountains belong to him to love and adore. 
The ice plains of the lofty chains, or the flowering 
meadows of the vast wilderness are both alike in 
beauty to him. The germ is fast within his heart 
and never again will the love of the silent places 
leave him ! At sunset El Misti always changes her 
bridal garment of shimmering white to one of 
delicate rose color, and as we left her thus it was 
hard to decide in which raiment we loved her 
best. 

After leaving Arequipa we climbed again a 
rugged region of hill slopes. In the distance the 
gleaming sands of the desert were visible and 
below was the little city of Yura, where another 
delicious effervescent table water is to be had. 
We saw alpacas and llamas, either grazing or be- 
ing driven by the Indians. The alpacas are not 



90 Below the Equator 

much used as pack animals and the vicunas never. 
The latter give a wonderful wool of which the 
finest rugs are made. The wool is delicate, silky, 
and the rugs made from it are costly and beau- 
tiful. 

We climbed from the eight thousand feet of 
Arequipa to fourteen thousand at Juliaca, passing 
at Crucero Alto a height of fifteen thousand to 
gain our destination. On the train many people 
fainted, even the mozo, our waiter, bled from 
both nose and ears. The sight was not particu- 
larly encouraging, but neither of us was affected 
in the least. This southern altitude plays strange 
tricks. Here was a porter habitually making the 
trip, and never affected before, completely over- 
come, while we who were unaccustomed to such 
dizzy heights were not at all disturbed. 

We spent the night in Juliaca in a room with- 
out any windows and marked number thirteen! 
As the railroads to this place ran but two trains 
a week, ours was pretty well crowded. A touring 
party quite filled our car. Among the people who 
lived in this country we met a charming English 
gentleman, Mr. Barker, the manager of a mine 
eighteen thousand feet in the air. He lived there 
with his wife. They played tennis and various 
other strenuous games and seemed not to mind 
the altitude in the least. He left our train, rode 
a hundred and fifty miles on horseback to reach 



Earthquakes and Indians 91 

his home, which lay just back of the snow-crowned 
El Pato, twenty-three thousand feet high. We 
saw this splendid peak from the train, and he 
thought no more of the little hundred and fifty- 
mile ride than we would of an afternoon walk! 
Early in the morning we departed from Juliaca 
and took our way toward Cuzco. Although the 
altitude was fourteen thousand feet and the air 
very thin and cold, none of us felt the slightest 
touch of soroche. One of the greatest charms of 
Peru is the clearness of the air. When there is no 
fog or mist one can see great distances. It is 
because of the clearness of the atmosphere that 
the stars are so wondrously luminous and beauti- 
ful. On the day that we traveled to Cuzco, the 
air was as clear as crystal and I think it the most 
beautiful of all the rides we took. We ran through 
a marvelously cultivated country. The ripe fields 
swept to the very top of the terraced Andes 
and were rich in corn, oats, and lima beans. 
Streams were plentiful; llamas, alpacas, horses, 
cows, and donkeys abundant. The picturesque 
Indian, wearing his poncho, was working in the 
fields, and whenever we saw an Indian riding it 
was always one of the masculine persuasion. If 
ever I wished for equal suffrage I wished for it 
here ! The cultivated valleys, the rivers which 
rushed down the mountain sides and formed the 
source of the wonderful Amazon, the indications 



92 Below the Equator 

on all sides of the enormous wealth of the Peru- 
vians were intensely interesting. But the Indians 
themselves were a dirty lot. The women wore 
curious, gaudy hats trimmed with gold and silver 
and red beading. They worked in the fields with 
their babies swung across their backs. All were 
bare-footed. 

I could not discern in these Indians any traces 
of their ancestors, the resourceful Incas. They 
would have been handsome had they been clean. 
When we were not close enough to study them 
they were quite picturesque. In contrast to the 
broad-brimmed felt hats of the women, the men 
wore small, stiff, white ones. Under the hat they 
wore tight-fitting red caps with flaps over the ears 
to protect them and the cheeks from the piercing 
cold. The women wore several petticoats, some- 
times a dozen, which gave them a bulky look, and 
they were of every color of the rainbow. Red, 
purple, and green predominated. All the natives 
carried small bags of coca leaves, the indispensable 
stimulant of the Indian in this country. Even the 
children are seen chewing it. It induces a slight 
intoxication, but if not taken in too large quanti- 
ties produces an exhilaration which enhances one's 
capacity for work. Under its influence a man has 
been known to work thirty hours without feeling 
tired. On the other hand, if taken too freely, it 
has exactly the opposite effect; it makes one so 



Earthquakes and Indians 93 

drowsy that he cannot keep awake. It must be 
chewed with the ashes of the corncob or else it 
produces madness. In the end it shortens life and 
undoubtedly it is the use of the coca leaf which 
gives that peculiarly stupid expression which one 
sees here on the faces of the Indians. 

It is said that the stupefying effect of the coca 
leaf explains the ability of the Incas to perform 
surgical operations, such as trepanning and ampu- 
tation. They had no other anaesthetic as far as 
we know. The patient may have been fed on 
it until his sensory nerves had been dead- 
ened, enabling their medical men to perform 
delicate operations successfully. It was undoubt- 
edly the coca leaf that gave the Indian runner, 
the fleet-footed Chasqui, strength and vitality to 
bring Huayna Capac his fish the day after it had 
been caught in the Pacific three hundred miles 
away. The Indian of today is as insistent as were 
his ancestors on his regular supply of charchar 
and oracallico. 

Some of the most distinguished Indians we met 
on this trip were called alcaldes. They were the 
village authorities, and they carried a badge of 
office in the shape of a heavy staff at the end of 
which was a round head, or a spike, of solid silver. 
The man who is seen with this in his hand exerts 
absolute power in his community. When he 
moves through the crowd everybody makes way 



94 Below the Equator 

for him, and no amount of money can buy this 
badge of office from one who owns it. All through 
the beautiful valley of the Vilcamayo River we 
were struck by the wonderful cultivation. The 
irrigated fields with their beautiful green floors 
stretched to the very top of the Andes. The 
wider and more level stretches of the meadows 
were flourishing with abundant crops and nestling 
below the hills were charming little villages 
breathing of industry. The contrast of the dark 
rocks and the cultivation is extremely fascinating. 
Nowhere, even in Illinois, perhaps the richest 
farming land in the world, had we ever seen love- 
lier fields. 

Their chief beast of burden is the llama. With 
its long neck and small head it resembles a small 
camel. They are very little care to the native 
Indians because they find their own food. For 
some reason the alpacas do not seem to work. 
They are kept presumably for their long and fine 
wool, and look like large sheep. In these high 
altitudes the alpaca fights for every bit of green 
that it eats and so its life is a long continuous 
struggle for sustenance. The men and women in 
these heights are splendid types, fine-looking and 
very bright. The stupid Indians are found in the 
sea levels. However, in all altitudes most of 
them seem to be opposed to cleanliness. As a 
usual thing their houses are made of bamboo and 



Earthquakes and Indians 95 

covered with adobe, and have a hole in the center 
of the roof to let out the smoke. Nearly all the 
houses are surmounted by the cross, an indication 
of their religious tendency. 



CHAPTER XIV 
cuzco 

SWINGING down the long canon of the Vil- 
camayo, we hurried on to Cuzco, which we 
reached late in the evening. The location of this 
city is said to be more beautiful than the world- 
famed Rome or Athens, and the beauty which 
lies outspread before the observer on Sacsahua- 
man is not to be denied. The memory of its glori- 
ous and brilliant past consoled us to a large extent 
for its present-day inconveniences and obnoxious 
smells. We spent a week there. We visited its 
wonderful cathedral with its silver altar, its Tem- 
ple of the Sun, its Inca ruins and the Fortress of 
Sacsahuaman, the walls of which are built of 
enormous stones, perfectly cut and adjusted with 
a nicety before which present-day engineers gasp 
in admiration. The old Temple of the Sun is 
now a Catholic monastery. The great stone 
benches out on the fortress are veritable arm- 
chairs. They are smooth and comfortable and 
we stood before them in awe, trying to realize 
what such labor with only the rude implements 
they had at their disposal must have meant to 

96 



Cuzco 97 

those who fashioned them. What difficult 
things the Incas accomplished. And how little 
they seemed to regard the labor! If a thing was 
desired it was done. If the chief ordered it no 
questions were asked. And no one ever knew the 
number of lives given to the accomplishment of 
this huge building. Only one who saw the fulfill- 
ment could know. What a lesson in discipline 
for us all ! 

Cuzco has twenty-five thousand inhabitants and 
lies at an altitude of eleven thousand feet. Its 
civilization, its magnificent temples, its power, its 
wealth, and its terrible tragedies still give to its 
massive ruins an undying fame. Four centuries 
ago it had no rival in its treasures of gold and 
silver, and its marvelous constructions and 
buildings, of which the remains are still to be 
seen. 

The Inca Empire lasted about four centuries. 
The legend is that they were children of the sun. 
They first appeared on the Island of the Sun, on 
Lake Titicaca, coming later to Cuzco and estab- 
lishing their dominion. The first Inca, Manco, 
was a great and wise ruler. His successor built 
the buildings, founded schools for the education 
of his people and punished all breakers of the 
laws. A system of irrigating canals, twelve feet 
deep and four hundred feet long, a remarkable 
feat of engineering, gave them pasture land, and 



98 Below the Equator 

was only one of the things they did. Their armies 
were excellent. They kept the laws. Because 
they worshiped the sun their Temple of the Sun 
was covered with a roof of gold, and in its gar- 
dens were artificial flowers made of gold and 
silver. In fact, they made figures of animals, 
plants, and trees, images of men, women, and chil- 
dren, all of solid gold. Doors were covered with 
gold and a gold cornice more than a yard deep 
ran around the building. When the sun's rays 
fell upon all this glitter the people were dazzled. 
It took generations to build the temple, but it was 
the most wonderful thing in the world when com- 
pleted. Only the Indian nobles were permitted 
to enter the Sun Temple, and the only women 
granted entrance were the wife and daughters of 
the reigning Inca, Mummified bodies of the 
Incas, clad in royal robes and seated on golden 
thrones, with eyes downcast and hands folded 
across the breast, sat on each side of the deity 
whose image also was made of gold. 

Indeed, gold was so plentiful that it may safely 
be said no king, no emperor in the world ever had 
wealth to equal it. The service in the Inca's house 
was of gold and silver, even his kitchen utensils 
were of silver and copper. He had colossal 
statues of gold in his home and animals and trees 
of the precious metal; also ropes and baskets and 
piles of golden sticks to imitate fuel prepared for 




o 






o £ 



Cuzco 99 

burning. In fact, everything he saw about him 
was imitated in gold. 

Another temple was dedicated to the moon. 
Its ceiling was covered with silver stars. Still 
another was dedicated to the thunder and the 
lightning. Then there was the Hall of the Rain- 
bow, filled with gold plate and jewels, in which 
the priests gave audience. There was also a house 
of the Virgins. There were of these fifteen hun- 
dred, selected from the royal lineage of Cuzco, 
and chosen for their beauty and their high birth. 
They wove and spun the clothing of the Inca and 
his queen. The dishes and utensils which they 
used were made of solid gold. They entered the 
convent at the age of seven and were vowed to 
chastity. All of the wondrous wealth of which I 
speak was stolen or absorbed by the Spaniards, 
and their treatment of the Indians was abomin- 
able. 

What scenes of joyous festivity must have taken 
place in the streets of Cuzco in the olden days! 
The inhabitants were a cultured and happy peo- 
ple. It was only the wealth and strength of these 
glorious memories which gave us courage to 
endure the fetid stenches of the present day. The 
Cuzco of today is inconceivably filthy, yet we were 
informed that recent heavy rains had made it 
much cleaner than usual! What must it have 
been in the dry season! There seems to be no 



100 Below the Equator 

laws of hygiene here. The government has seem- 
ingly accepted the disgusting filth everywhere 
apparent as an inevitable fact which cannot be 
remedied. This city of a great past is now just 
a spot of nauseating odors, and nothing but our 
devotion to the memories of the glorious days of 
the Incas kept us within its bounds for the ten days 
that we stayed there. 

From a business standpoint, Cuzco seems thriv- 
ing enough. The stores contain pretty things, and 
aside from the Indians, the people are well- 
dressed and seem busy. We wondered how they 
could walk so contentedly through the dirty 
streets. 

Th j beautiful painting of Christ by Van Dyck, 
whicu we especially wished to see in the cathedral, 
we came near not seeing at all. They regard it, 
rightly, as very precious, and it was only after we 
had spent some time in explaining our wish to 
view it to a polite old priest that he consented. He 
told us then that the picture had been stolen and 
injured by thieves only the week before. They 
had cut it out of the frame, rolled it up carelessly 
and carried it away. Only the day before it had 
been recovered. Excitement in regard to it was 
still running high and naturally they did not wish 
to risk losing it again. However, he evidently 
sized us up as honest and sincere. So he took us 
into a little room where the beautiful canvas was 



Cuzco 101 

stretched out on a long table in the center of the 
room. This was the only way in which we could 
see it. Naturally we could not judge its merits, 
but we were nevertheless much impressed by its 
soft and beautiful coloring. 

In Santo Domingo church, or rather convent, 
the devotees occupy cells that were once used by 
the Virgins of the Sun, and the walls of San 
Lazoro are ornamented with bodies of birds hav- 
ing women's heads carved by the bronze chisels 
of the Inca artisans. The pulpit of San Bias is 
famed the world over for its beauty, as is also 
La Merced. In the latter the remains of Almagro 
and two of Pizarro's brothers are buried. 

Sacsahuaman, the great fortress on the hilltop, 
is the most inspiring spot. The immensity of the 
stones which had to be raised here leaves one 
almost breathless with admiration for the extraor- 
dinary work these people accomplished. On the 
way one passes the famous stone with twelve 
angles, where the joining is so fine that a knife- 
blade cannot pass between the sections. No mor- 
tar was used, and how their wonderful work was 
accomplished without tools of steel, or other metal, 
remains a mystery. We stood on this old fortress 
and looked down upon the Cuzco of today with a 
feeling of sadness. How she has changed ! That 
very morning I had watched with horror an old 
woman who was preparing vegetables for her 



102 Below the Equator 

soup. She was calmly washing them in the sewer 1 
And this is only one of many such things we saw 
there. 

Once upon a time Cuzco contained four hun- 
dred thousand souls. She was hemmed in by walls 
of colored marble. Her glorious temples were 
incomparable. Her splendid civilization and her 
people of royal lineage were her treasures. Today, 
with her twenty-five thousand inhabitants, she is 
the wreck of her former greatness, although her 
remains are enough. Whenever I complained of 
the trying conditions which we were compelled 
to submit to my husband would say to me : 

"Well, what of it? No matter what we see, 
no matter what we have to endure, we are in 
Cuzco!" His enthusiasm always buoyed me 
greatly. After all, he was right. Cuzco is the 
most fascinating spot in the world. 

Throughout Peru we had been told wonderful 
stories of the marvelous wealth the Incas had 
hidden away to keep it from the covetous Span- 
iards. The legends of fabulous amounts of gold 
put away in this manner are innumerable. One 
of the prettiest, I thought, was of the Golden 
Chain made by the Inca, Huayna Capac, which 
was long enough to be stretched all around the 
great square of Cuzco. The Incas took this 
superb piece of work and carried it to Lake Urcos. 
There they had many ceremonies appertaining to 



Cuzco 103 

it and after the conclusion of them threw the 
chain into the waters. In this way it could never 
be taken by their enemies, the Spaniards. Every- 
body believes it to be still at the bottom of the 
lake, and this lovely little lake has been dragged 
and sounded many times in the hopes of finding it. 
Needless to add, if it was ever thrown there, that 
it is still there now. 

We came near having a tragedy the morning 
we attempted the fortress. The climb is very 
abrupt, and, owing to the fact that a pretty trick- 
ling stream keeps nearly all the stones wet, we 
were told that it was a little dangerous to go on 
horseback. Yet it was a long, hard climb on foot, 
so we determined to try the horses. I took the 
precaution of having a man at my horse's head — 
an act I did not regret, because, hard as the ascent 
was, the descent was much more difficult. The 
horses often stumbled badly. Just as we were 
ready to start we all got very much upset. With 
some eastern friends we had intended going alone, 
but a touring party which we had run across sev- 
eral times since we left Lima decided to make the 
journey at the same hour. Everybody was laugh- 
ing and happy when we went out to mount the 
horses. One of the men was rather heavy, and 
the mounting was successfully done by all except 
this gentleman. As he attempted to vault into the 
saddle, he overdid it, or else perhaps the saddle 



104 Below the Equator 

slipped. At any rate, he vaulted clear over his 
animal and came down with the full force of his 
weight squarely on his head, striking the hard 
cobblestones. It was a bad moment for us all, 
and especially so for his wife. We thought that 
his neck must be broken and that he would be 
picked up dead. Luckily for him, however, his 
soft cap had clung tightly to his head, thus break- 
ing the blow, and beyond a cut and a few bruises 
which did not prove serious, he was unhurt. Still, 
he was pretty much jarred, his wife was nervous, 
and for those two the pleasure of the day was 
gone. They remained at the hotel and the party 
went on without them. 

My guide said: " Al instante que yo supe del 
peligro en que el se encontraba fui a su socorro, 
Senora" (The instant I saw the danger to him I 
went to his rescue). 

It is pitiful to see in Cuzco the loads strapped to 
the backs of the children — mere babies they 
seem ! And one man carried my trunk on his 
back for two and a half miles up a hill (it was a 
heavy trunk, too), for which his charge was 
twenty-five cents American money. He looked at 
us in amazement when we trebled the amount. 

We studied a museum of curios and Inca relics 
and saw the mummified remains of prisoners who 
had been buried alive. The horrible expression of 
torture on their faces, the distorted condition of 



Cuzco 105 

their bodies, made us shiver. What agonies they 
must have endured before death ! 

The weather was very cold while we were in 
Cuzco. Though it was February and their mid- 
summer, we fairly shivered all the time. We were 
wearing the heaviest clothing, and I never let my 
hot-water bottle get away from me during the 
night. There is no heat, of course, in any of these 
houses, and there were but two rooms in the hotel 
which had any outside ventilation. Dr. and Mrs. 
Wilson and Miss Wilson, from Bridgeport, Con- 
necticut, were with us and we were fortunate 
enough to get both rooms. All of the natives seem 
to huddle together in one room in the homes. We 
could see into many of the houses through the 
door, their only means of ventilation. Men, 
women, children, and animals congregate in this 
manner. They cook, eat, sleep in this one room. 
It goes without saying that it is horribly dirty and 
that the odors are far from agreeable. 

All down the Pacific coast and through Peru 
we had observed the picturesque way the women 
have of wearing the manta. It is a black shawl 
pinned tightly over the head, covering the ears 
and giving only a small view of the face. Somber 
and black as these women look, it is a novel and 
attractive headdress. Some of the younger ones 
are exceedingly pretty in this mournful manta. The 
whole southern country is devoted to black, and if 



106 Below the Equator 

one appears who is not wearing it she usually goes 
to the other extreme and arrays herself in vivid 
shades, affecting every different shade of the rain- 
bow. The women greet each other in curious 
fashion. They do not kiss at all, but they hug 
each other closely, lightly rubbing their cheeks 
together, first one and then the other. In this 
way they demonstrate their affection, but even if 
one is close enough to see them at such a moment 
their faces will be found to be quite impassive. 

To the Spanish wife of the hotel proprietor at 
Cuzco, who had been most kind to me, I spoke 
always in the best Spanish at my command — it 
was excellent practice and the only way in which 
I could make myself understood. On parting, I 
used a phrase I had prepared with some difficulty, 
which seemed to surprise her and give her great 
pleasure: "Me avergiienzo de haber dado a 
Usted tanta molestia, pero me acordare toda la 
vida del servicio que me ha hecho " (I am ashamed 
to have been the cause of so much inconvenience, 
but in return I will remember the rest of my life 
your service). 

The eucalyptus and pepper trees are many and 
are the finest trees in Peru. The morning we left 
Cuzco we were up before dawn and had our coffee 
and bread on the train. It had rained most of the 
night before and the mountains were covered with 
new-fallen snow. The funny little car, the only 



Cuzco 107 

street railway in Cuzco, took us to the station; 
and, by the way, it is used solely for that purpose. 
It runs only to and from the trains. The fog was 
still clinging to the mountains, and there was a 
golden haze made by the rising sun. Its yellow 
reflection softened many of the stern realities of 
the town we were leaving. The adobe fences, 
from which a curious growth of cactus frequently 
is to be seen springing out, were shining with ice 
crystals or frost. The picturesque Indians, in their 
variegated colors, were already filling the streets. 
The splendid ruins on the hill, the great walls of 
the city, the peaceful valley which lay at the foot 
of the mountains, filled us with a sense of myste- 
rious charm. We realized that, 'after all, no 
matter what inconveniences must be endured, the 
sight of Cuzco and the memory of her glorious 
past amply repays one. 



CHAPTER XV 

LAKE TITICACA 

BEFORE I began my journey down the Pacific 
I had always heard of South America as a 
country of rebellions and uprisings. I was forced 
to change my mind about many of the things, but 
the uprisings was not one of them. The memory 
of the latter will linger with me to my dying day. 
During our six months' stay in this southern coun- 
try, every train we took seemed to leave at five 
o'clock in the morning! How dreadful those 
uprisings were ! Personally, I regard it as an 
absolute impossibility to really enjoy anything at 
five o'clock in the morning, all the more so because 
I spent many hours of the night studying that bril- 
liant constellation, the Southern Cross, watching 
its gradual climb upward and never tiring of its 
two superb stars, which, although they really 
belong to another group, always seem a part of 
it. These stars, called the Pointers, always point 
to the Southern Cross. I did not care how late 
I sat up watching them, but one morning when I 
had been wakened at an unearthly hour, someone 
added insult to injury by calling my attention to 

108 



Lake Titicaca 109 



the fact that I could now see the brilliant Pointers 
upside down ! I looked without enthusiasm upon 
the scene. In spite of my hot-blooded southern 
ancestry, I was so haughtily indifferent to the 
beauty of the view that my husband remarked 
that he saw a "southern cross," and — it wasn't 
in the sky. 

One morning, however, I was really anxious to 
arise before dawn. It was on Lake Titicaca. 
We had reached the place the previous evening. 
It was about six o'clock when we arrived and the 
full moon was just rising. On this beautiful lake, 
the highest body of navigable water in the world, 
the air was clear and decidedly frosty. It is thir- 
teen thousand five hundred feet high — in other 
words, two and a third miles up in the air. In 
spite of the moonlight the stars shone brilliantly. 
They glowed like fire, the peculiarity of the atmos- 
phere giving them a wonderful luminosity. We 
sat late on deck, positively thrilled by the beauty 
of the night. In order to reach Lake Titicaca 
we had had to retrace our steps from Cuzco to 
Juliaca, running again through that marvelously 
cultivated country which had already so impressed 
us. Leaving Juliaca, we had gone on down to 
Puno, on the border of the lake. The railroad, 
like the other wonderful one already spoken of, 
was built by Henry Meiggs. No wonder Peru 
honors his memory. All through these countries 



110 Below the Equator 

the mountains have to be climbed or tunneled, and 
sometimes at every few yards one is plunged into 
darkness. 

As Lake Titicaca is one hundred and sixty-five 
miles long by sixty wide, and as it lies in the heart 
of the Andes, we could see the snow-clad heights 
all about us. Over our heads glowed the three 
crosses — the Southern Cross, the Astral Triangle, 
and the False Cross. The view of these constella- 
tions alone would warm the coldest blood, but 
when added to the beauty which surrounded them 
it was a never-to-be-forgotten sight. Before dawn 
I was again on deck. This was the one morning 
of which I did not complain. The stars were still 
distinctly visible, but they soon faded before the 
rosy streaks of dawn. A few moments more and 
the sun began shimmering the lake with gold. The 
great Sorota mountain range stretched away in 
magnificence and from its more than twenty thou- 
sand feet of dazzling whiteness seemed to smile 
down upon us. We felt as if we had but to reach 
out to touch the peaks. In reality they were 
hundreds of miles away. 

Here one sees the Cordillera Real, gigantic 
Illampu, Illimani, and Huayna Potosi, twenty 
thousand to twenty one thousand five hundred feet 
above sea level. 

The waters of Lake Titicaca are wonderfully 
clear. It is fed by streams from the snow-covered 




Photo by E. M. Newman 

Ruins of Ancient Inca Forts, Cuzco, Peru 



m -^^m 




















m 


BH 

BH 






*WplPfc 



Town of Juliaca, Peru 
14,000 feet above sea level 




Photo by Carter H. Harrison 

Rapid Transit in Chile 



v "Of **> ; *-%" 


« ^Y" fc 




1 'W 


"-^^jA* ' ; " 9 * ia jg||j 





Photo by Carter H. Harrison 

Group of Llamas Resting 

The llama is the beast of burden "below the 

equator " 



Lake Titicaca ill 

mountains. The blue of the waters is deep and 
dark and its crystalline depths are very cold, like 
the waters of Lake Superior. It would be impos- 
sible to live in them many minutes. 

Indeed, in both coldness and limpidity the 
waters of Lake Titicaca are the only ones that 
have ever compared in our minds with the 
crystal ones of Lake Superior. On the red 
sandstone shores of Lake Superior we have a 
summer home — a quaint log cabin — where for 
many years the glorious mirages by day and 
the mysterious Aurora by night have enchanted 
us. 

Ever since I was a girl I had read of this great 
inland water, Lake Titicaca, which lay between 
the two ranges of the Cordillera, about three miles 
above the ocean level. After years of longing to 
look at it I found it even more beautiful than I 
had imagined. On all sides the majestic range 
of the Andes looked down upon us. The great 
chain, stretching hundreds of miles away, ending 
in the gigantic Illimani, which looks down upon 
La Paz, lay before us. Nestling in many of the 
mountains were wondrous glaciers, clear and 
green in color. No clouds were to be seen. Every 
foot of the beautiful range was clear and distinct 
in a blazing sunlight. Every line of the snowy 
Cordillera which divides the lake basin from the 
valleys that run down to the east and the Amazo- 



112 Below the Equator 

nian forest was visible. Mystery lay in its solemn 
immensity. 

We had no time to give to the Indian temples 
on the lake, interesting as they were. Most reluc- 
tantly we passed them by. But we resolved to 
come again on the homeward trip. As half of 
Lake Titicaca lies in Bolivia, we crossed to Guaqui. 
Here we were met by dozens of Indians sailing 
their balsa boats. These are made of rushes and 
look very fragile, but they are said to be quite 
durable and they glide across the water with a 
grace which is charming. As we took our way 
onward we had just a glimpse of the great Inca 
monument, Tiahuanaco, between trains. This, 
too, we were forced to leave for a later visit when 
we should turn our faces homeward again. 

The figures at Tiahuanaco were the last we saw, 
and were so wonderful that we have never ceased 
to regret we could not linger and study them. The 
monolith, that stands in full view even from the 
train, is superbly sculptured, and it is said that all 
the colossal figures found on Easter Island — the 
island of Robinson Crusoe, off the coast of Chile 
— have a marked resemblance to the figures found 
here at Tiahuanaco. All of this work is pre-Inca, 
which makes it the more remarkable — that people 
thousands of miles apart as they were could do 
similar work, showing that even then there must 
have been communication between them. 



CHAPTER XVI 

BOLIVIA 

BOLIVIA is a large country, bounded on three 
of its sides by Brazil, Paraguay, and Argen- 
tina. It was deprived of its seaboard on the 
Pacific coast by Peru and Chile. Before it was 
liberated it was called Upper Peru. The country 
is nearly all high land and very mountainous, 
although it has many plains. In the heart of the 
country the fertile spots and mineral wealth are 
enormous. She possesses wonderful possibilities 
for development, but, alas, her progress cannot be 
rapid. She is heavily handicapped by having no 
port on the ocean, being entirely an inland coun- 
try. Bolivia seems to take pride in the fact that 
she has had more revolutions than any other 
country in South America ! The war with Chile 
in which Bolivia fought with Peru ended badly 
for her. When she was cut off from the ocean 
she lost all of her nitrate fields. It is the 
great hope of the Bolivians that some day they 
may again have a seaport. Many Germans 
have peopled the country. In fact, the two 
principal nations there are English and Ger- 

113 



114 Below the Equator 

man. They are thrifty and have acquired great 
wealth. 

Bolivia's government consists of a president, a 
congress, and a judiciary, and the people are sup- 
posed to have equal suffrage. It is astonishing 
that people can live, even, to say nothing of being 
so healthy and hearty, in a country the lowest 
level of which is about thirteen thousand feet. 
Evidently, however, it is the old case of the sur- 
vival of the fittest. They are said to be the 
strongest and the healthiest people in South 
America. There are no lowlands in Bolivia, but 
one part (the western portion) has a fine clear 
climate. It surprised us to find this part so little 
cultivated. The most disagreeable climate and 
the roughest part of the country seem to have 
been selected for their large city, La Paz. 

Not much is really known of the early history 
of Bolivia. When the Spaniards first invaded the 
country Bolivia was under the rule of the Incas 
and they offered very little resistance to the tor- 
nado from Spain which swept down upon them. 
Injustice and oppression somehow seemed to be 
the early history of all these South American 
countries. Imprisonment and death were com- 
mon punishments for the slightest offenses. No 
matter what concession was offered by the poor 
natives, nothing seemed to avail them. Their 
offers were often accepted and then treachery 



Bolivia 115 



followed. Like Peru, Bolivia had fabulous 
wealth. But it all went to fill the coffers of 
Spain. For nearly two hundred years after the 
Spanish conquest, Bolivia was a part of Peru. 
But when the war of independence came 
the people named it Bolivia, in honor of 
Simon Bolivar, the Liberator. Until he came the 
feeble efforts of the Bolivians to protect them- 
selves were unavailing. Their leaders and sol- 
diers perished in great numbers, and until the 
arrival of General San Martin in 1821 there 
appeared to be little hope for them. He gave 
them new courage, and when General Bolivar 
arrived in La Paz and undertook their leadership 
their troublous times seemed to have come to an 
end. 

All through the northern republics of South 
America, Simon Bolivar was known as the Lib- 
erator. His leadership, courage, and patriotism 
certainly were the means of throwing off the yoke 
of Spain. Only a man of his indomitable courage 
could have achieved what he did in these countries. 
With only a few men, with almost impenetrable 
swamps as barriers, with the land filled with poi- 
son, and mountains covered with snow and ice to 
militate against him, it is a wonder that he had 
any success worth mentioning. He was born in 
Caracas in 1783. He came of a family of wealth 
and refinement. His mother was a woman of 



116 Below the Equator 

distinction and saw to it that her son was well 
educated under competent instructors. His father 
died in the boy's extreme youth. At sixteen he 
was sent to Spain. His letters of introduction 
gave him access to the finest and best homes there 
and at the Spanish court. He soon became a 
polished caballero. He traveled all over Europe, 
but, as he was of a studious turn of mind, he did 
not neglect his education. He could not fail to 
note the progress of the Spanish cities and con- 
trasted them sadly with those of his own country, 
which was under such heavy bondage. He was 
an enthusiastic admirer of Napoleon, who was 
then at the height of his power. When he was 
but eighteen he fell in love with a beautiful young 
Spanish girl, married her, and brought her back 
to his old home in Caracas. For a while it looked 
as if, absorbed in love and happiness, he was 
indifferent to affairs of state. At the end of two 
years, however, his young wife died, and it was 
a long time before he could recover from the 
despair into which he was plunged by her loss. 
Gradually, however, he awakened from his sor- 
row and once more looked about at his people. 
Then came his first desire to liberate them. Al- 
though he was a ready speaker and writer, a man 
of broad education, handsome, well groomed, and 
most agreeable in his personality, there was some 
disposition among the haughty Spanish in the 



Bolivia 117 



higher society to plot against him. This was due 
to the fact that there was a little Indian blood in 
his veins. Many of the most exclusive houses 
were closed to him for this reason, and this bred 
in him much bitterness of spirit. This depriva- 
tion of a society which was agreeable to a man 
of his education and wide experience may have 
had much to do with forcing him into another line 
of occupation. But he was a born leader and it 
was not long until his country recognized him as 
such. 

Gradually he assumed charge of the public 
interest. He was regarded as honest and they 
entrusted him with all their hopes of gaining free- 
dom from Spain. He tried to obtain the assist- 
ance of both England and France, but both failed 
him, and during all this time Spain was directing 
all her furies toward the colonists. But Bolivar 
had the confidence of the people. The women 
even gave him their jewels to help the cause. 

After Bolivar became commander-in-chief of 
the army another revolution was brought about 
and the independence of Venezuela was declared. 
The Spanish commander, Monte Verde, came 
through into the interior of Venezuela, killing 
everything in his path. Bolivar lost his leader- 
ship and everything was in the greatest confusion. 
Murders and disorders followed. He fled to 
foreign lands, but in two years he came back with 



118 Below the Equator 

a little army, and when he marched into Caracas 
he was hailed with wild demonstrations of joy. 
He was made dictator. But a change had come 
over the personality of the man. After this he 
seems to have been driven to brutality more hor- 
rible than the Spaniards had given to the colonists. 
At one time he considered it his duty to execute 
eight hundred Spanish merchants and soldiers 
whom he was holding as prisoners. The records 
show that at times the slaughter was so terrible 
that the gutters actually ran blood. Again Spain 
was victorious and Bolivar fled into exile. A price 
was put upon his head, and all thought that now 
he was impotent and powerless. But his was an 
ambition which could be quenched only by death. 
He interested a Dutch-Frenchman of wealth and 
the latter fitted out a small fleet in which he sailed 
up the Orinoco River. Out of the very heart of the 
tropics he came. He had been hiding there almost 
in despair, in the midst of deadly reptiles, death- 
dealing insects, and infested streams. Now he 
was again able to attack the Spanish territory. 
At a certain point on the Orinoco he left his fleet 
and started to cross the Andes. This time it was 
to do or die, he told his little band of followers. 
They climbed the ice-bound mountains and waded 
through fearful swamps and rivers. Everything 
which could possibly injure them seems to have 
attacked them. One of their greatest annoyances 



Bolivia 119 



was a small fish with long jaws and very sharp 
teeth, which bit the bare legs of the soldiers as 
they went through the waters. Hundreds of them 
died, but when it seemed that they could go no 
farther, it was always their leader's smile and his 
cheerfulness which held them together. It is 
hardly to be believed, but when in this depleted 
condition — worn-out, hungry, and feeble — a 
strong army of Spaniards attacked them, the little 
band overthrew them and gained a great victory. 
It is recorded that they fought with a delirium 
and a wildness which could not be withstood. The 
tide seemed to have turned. With this victory 
new life came to all of them, and from this time 
on they were successful. The most marvelous 
devotion was shown Bolivar by his followers. 
His personality was hypnotic. 

There is a story of a woman which illustrates 
Bolivar's hold upon his people. She was Doiia 
Policapia, a well-born woman of Bogota — beau- 
tiful, accomplished, charming, and very musical. 
When the Spaniards attacked the city she played 
her part by enticing young officers to her house 
and by her powers of fascination gradually learned 
in the course of their conversation many of their 
secrets. This information she forwarded to Boli- 
var. One day her messenger was captured, and 
when threatened with death he betrayed his mis- 
tress. She was arrested, and with her the man 



120 Below the Equator 

to whom she was soon to be married. She was 
offered her own life and that of her lover, as well 
as the privilege of retaining all her wealth, if 
she would confess. She spurned the offer. The 
lovers were tied together and orders were given 
to fire upon them. The young man begged her to 
confess and save herself, but she turned to him 
and asked him to die bravely with her. As the 
volley was fired the courageous girl threw open 
her mantle, and on her breast, wrought in beauti- 
ful gold embroidery, were the words, "Vive la 
Patrie ! V 

Later Bolivar joined the Peruvians and helped 
to free them. He assisted in founding their 
republic. No wonder his name is hailed as a hero 
over all the earth among men who hate tyranny. 
The republic of Bolivia was formed to perpetuate 
his name, and he returned from these victories to 
Caracas covered with glory. He cared nothing 
whatever for the riches he might have had, but 
he had one great ambition which was never real- 
ized. He wanted to free Cuba before he died. 
His end, like that of so many great men, was sad. 
Petty jealousies and ambitions enabled his enemies 
to be in the saddle before his death, and he was, 
exiled from the land he had saved. He died in 
1830, but his last message was noble and beauti- 
ful: "For my enemies I have only forgiveness. 
If my death shall contribute to the cessation of 



Bolivia 121 



factional strife and the consolidation of the union 
I shall go tranquilly to my grave." 

With the building of a much-needed railroad, 
the Madeira-Mamore, around the rapids, giving 
her an outlet to the Amazon and Para for her 
rubber industry, Bolivia's progress has gone for- 
ward in leaps and bounds. Her wealth from this 
is so great that it is impossible even to compute it. 
Countless miles of rubber land, as well as gold and 
tin mines, yield her billions each year. The loss 
of her port on the Pacific was a great blow, as 
there is no way of reaching the Atlantic without 
immense difficulties. A series of falls in the Ma- 
deira River prevent navigation. Only canoes 
manned by the skilful natives can shoot them, and 
they do so at tremendous risk and frequent loss 
of life. In spite of this, however, many cargoes 
were carried, and even the children were sent this 
way to reach the Amazon and the Atlantic on 
their way to Europe to be educated. One of the 

wealthy men, Senor J — , had eleven sons. Each 

was splendidly educated, speaking many languages 
— polished and cultivated men. To get their 
education, however, they had had to go over the 
falls, or else make the long, tedious journey over 
the Andes to the Pacific and thence around the 
Horn to get to Europe. 

Six or eight years ago the railroad was com- 
pleted at Porto Velho. The Bolivians induced 



122 Below the Equator 

Brazil borrowed a hundred millions in gold from 
many miles of rubber land and some gold mines. 
Brazil borrowed a hundred millions in gold from 
Europe. The road was built, and once more an 
American did the work. His name was Percival 
Forquahar. He built it after the engineering plan 
adopted by those who were building the Panama 
Canal, and he thus gave to Bolivia the full use of 
the Amazon — an inestimable gift. The road cir- 
cles the falls and opens up a fifty-thousand-mile 
traffic to the Amazon through the two countries, 
Brazil and Bolivia. The road runs two hundred and 
ten miles and is a remarkable piece of engineering, 
speeding through a jungle where on either side 
are trees towering a hundred feet, among which 
gorillas and monkeys shriek and scream as the 
train flies by, and where hideous reptiles thirty- 
eight feet long are often found, where wild ani- 
mals of all kinds lurk, and where the foliage from 
the high trees often makes the day almost dark. 
To ride on this road in a perfectly equipped Pull- 
man sleeper is surely an experience. Bolivia now 
sends straight to Europe her big ships laden with 
gold, tin, and her various other rich products. 
The education of her young people is not now so 
difficult, but the great thing which struck us in 
South America was that, like the Inca of old, if 
a thing had to be done it was done, for even 
before the building of this road they had not 






Bolivia 123 



hesitated to educate their children, although the 
means were difficult. We were told by some 
friends that many years ago when they were in 
South America they had dined in a bamboo house 
in the wilderness, served by six slaves, eaten off 
of Haviland china, and drank champagne from 
long-stemmed, gold-rimmed glasses. It seemed 
incredible that such a feast could be served in the 
jungle of the Amazon long before the railroad was 
built! 



CHAPTER XVII 

LA PAZ 

BOLIVIA is about as large as the German and 
Austrian countries combined, but has a popu- 
lation less than that of Denmark. Four-fifths of 
her inhabitants are semi-civilized Indians. There 
is very little immigration, so the increase in popu- 
lation is limited, although Bolivia does not go 
backward in this respect. She holds her own. 
They have a delightful society among the few 
English and German people who are held together 
both by social and political ties. 

More charming, refined, and educated people I 
have never found than those who have established 
themselves in La Paz. So far away from what 
we consider the center of the great world, there 
was no question, even the latest topic of interest, 
which they were not ready to discuss intelligently. 
Their newspapers and magazines keep them in 
touch with everything. We attended some of 
their perfectly appointed dinners and it was hard 
to realize how remote we were from the "hub" 
of the busy world outside. 

Our first view of the wonderful city of La Paz 
124 



La Paz 125 

quite took our breath away. Its beauty was star- 
tling. No description can do it justice. We were 
running through rugged mountains at an elevation 
of nearly fourteen thousand feet when suddenly 
someone told us to look below ! There, a thou- 
sand feet or more beneath us, lying in a perfect 
bowl at the foot of the mountain, lay this beauti- 
ful city, the highest in the world. Ah, the splen- 
dor of that first view! How did so strange a site 
happen to be chosen for a city? Here in the 
bleakest spot imaginable it lies ! In this thin air 
people with weak hearts and narrow chests cannot 
live. An attack of pneumonia is fatal unless the 
patient is hurried by railroad to the coast. Pres- 
sure of breathing and palpitation of the heart are 
common symptoms of soroche, as are violent head- 
aches and disturbances of the digestive organs 
also. Some are more sensitive than others to this 
illness, and it would have been as easy to have 
established this city on the other side of the moun- 
tains, at a lower level, where the valleys are fer- 
tile and the altitude much less. La Paz is in the 
coldest and most sterile part of the mountains. 
In spite of its absence of verdure, however, it is 
a fascinating spot. It has rows of beautiful euca- 
lyptus trees, and in some sheltered nooks of the 
town are gardens full of bamboo and flowering 
shrubs, and sometimes beside the river a patch of 
bright green alfalfa. The magnificent snowy mass 



126 Below the Equator 

of Illimani, with its glorious glaciers, towers above 
the city, forty miles away. But the city itself 
contains all modern comforts and conveniences and 
we found La Paz quite up-to-date. On the morning 
of our arrival she had just wired our country that 
in case we went to war with Germany she would 
stand with us. The whole city was on fire with 
enthusiasm because of this fact, and we were 
proud that our ex-Minister Knowles had had much 
to do with influencing the country to take this step. 
We all went to the "movies" to see the war pic- 
tures. The latter were excellent. But our hearts 
were sad at the thought that after all these years 
of peace between America and Europe we might 
have to take part in the struggle. 

A part of our purpose in visiting South America 
was to obtain, if possible, glimpses of the home 
life of the people. Through the kindness of ex- 
Minister Knowles and his successor, Minister 
O'Rear, we enjoyed many meetings with govern- 
ment officials and men prominent in public life. 
But it was to an Englishman, Mr. Thompson, and 
his attractive wife that we were indebted for a 
peep at the real life of the home. This de- 
lighted us. 

Colonel Knowles sent me a little Indian maid, 
a member of his own household, who was my 
bodyguard during the week we spent here. Little 
Rosita spoke only Spanish, but I could converse 




Photo by E. M. Newman 

La Paz, Bolivia 
Mt. Illimani in the background 



mk 


; '^^K^ 




S^^^^^^^^a^S 




i^ 



Photo by E. M. Newman 

A Gathering of Indians in La Paz, Bolivia 




Balsa Boat 

This queer craft is in general use in South 

America 




r IT. Harrison 

Group of Indians at La Paz 



La Paz 127 

sufficiently to give orders and understand her 
replies. She was the most perfect specimen of 
femininity in her line that I had ever seen, and 
though only eleven years old she was a splendid 
little maid. When I left, in addition to crossing 
her palm freely, I presented her with a white- 
feathered hat (from Chicago) which she had so 
envied me. I thought it looked utterly ridiculous 
on a child of her years and race, but her mother 
assured me that it was entirely appropriate for 
Sunday use ! Comforted by this assurance, I 
thereupon added a brilliant green parasol, a yel- 
low sweater, and some white gloves. I was con- 
sumed with regret that I never had the pleasure 
of seeing her parading in all this paraphernalia ! 
Thousands of Indians from all parts of the 
country assemble in the market place on Sunday 
to display their wares. Fruits, vegetables, meats, 
flowers, weavings, laces, linens — in fact, every 
piece of their varied industries is here shown. 
Everything is laid out upon the ground and they 
squat back behind the display. The women usually 
have their babies strapped on their backs or else 
laid beside them on a board. The red-skinned 
babies have sparkling black eyes and are the pret- 
tiest little specimens of humanity! The scene in 
the market place covers many blocks. A solid 
stream of Indians and purchasers passes by, and 
one cannot turn and go back because he is solidly 



128 Below the Equator 

wedged in. Room is made only to stop and buy. 
The whole is kaleidoscopic, a perfect panorama of 
color, the men wearing brilliant ponchos of the 
finest weave, and the women, as usual, garbed in 
every color of the rainbow. Accompanying us on 
our tour walked little Rosita, proudly carrying a 
basket for our purchases. 

A very pretty ceremony is the changing of the 
president's guard every few hours. This is always 
accompanied by the playing of the band. The 
Bolivian bands are famous the world over. We 
never missed a chance to hear one and we were 
never disappointed. Just opposite the hotel where 
we were staying was a beautiful but unfinished 
cathedral which has been slowly building for 
eighty years. It is not yet roofed in, but it gives 
promise of great things when complete. 

The native Indian women here are of two 
classes — those who wear shoes and those who do 
not! It is interesting to note the dress of the one 
who claims superiority over her shoeless neighbor. 
Her picturesque Indian costume, with brilliantly 
colored shawl, or poncho, is always scrupulously 
adjusted, and with it she never fails to wear a 
high-crowned, narrow-brimmed hat. These hats 
have the narrowest brims I have ever seen, about 
a quarter of an inch wide. This, of course, accen- 
tuates the height of the crown. But this enormous 
weight of poncho and remarkable headgear are by 



La Paz 129 

no means her only claims to fashion. Far from it. 
When she walks she takes little, mincing steps, 
because — she wears high French heels! The 
ensemble is both curious and amusing. 

La Paz contains about a hundred thousand 
people, and it was a strange sensation to be at the 
foot of lofty ranges and yet be as high above sea 
level as the top of the Rocky Mountains. All the 
time we were in this altitude (about thirteen thou- 
sand feet) we were conscious of a great malaise. 
We were never entirely free from a touch of 
soroche in the form of headache or a slight nausea. 
I certainly thanked Heaven that I did not have to 
live here. It seems to me an impossible place in 
which to live and feel well. Here, as everywhere 
else, the Indian is never without his bag of coca 
leaves, which he chews continually with a little 
clay while walking or working, finding in them the 
support which enables him to endure fatigue with- 
out food for a long period. 



CHAPTER XVIII 

ARICA 

WHILE we were in La Paz we heard many 
interesting stories and legends of the In- 
dians. They claim that in the Andean interior 
many of the old customs still prevail. One made 
us think of Russian rule, or the law of the lord 
of the manor. Here the story is that when a 
youth and maiden are married the tribe gather 
together to witness the festivities and then insist 
that immediately after the ceremony the groom 
leave his bride and go away somewhere to work 
for three or four years, leaving her in charge of 
the best man. At the end of his probation he 
has to prove himself worthy of the maiden he 
wed. He has kept a record of what he accom- 
plished, and if it is a good record he comes 
back and claims his bride. Meanwhile the best 
man shows him that he too has not been idle. 
With his bride he usually turns over two or three 
sturdy children. 

One never forgets that La Paz is really an 
Indian city and has probably the largest Indian 
population of any South American city. Like all 

130 



Arica 131 

people who occupy extremely cold countries, they 
are very cheerful and happy in their dispositions. 
The wind must be carefully tempered for them. 
One would suppose that the terrible trials which 
they are obliged to overcome in their daily strug- 
gle for food would engender an irritable disposi- 
tion. But, like the Icelander and the Laplander, 
the Bolivian Indian is good-natured. As a queer 
contrast, one meets the sullen, vindictive Indian 
in the southern climate, where one would think 
that the flowers, the vegetation, and the eternal 
sunshine would keep him perpetually good- 
humored. I cannot dwell too largely upon the 
penetrating chill in these countries where one 
never sees an open fire or heat of any kind. 
Lately in Lima and La Paz the idle rich have 
decided that they must have some heat in their 
houses, and a most acceptable Christmas present 
was a tiny stove about twice as large as those used 
by the ladies for curling their hair. Three or four 
of these were used by the American minister, 
Governor McMillin, in his home in Lima. It 
was amusing to see these small warmers — less 
than a foot in length by half a foot wide — being 
carried from room to room to give a little warmth 
and take off the chill of the air. However, they 
did generate considerable heat, and after an hour's 
use changed the atmosphere very much. In La 
Paz we had a faint understanding of why coal is 



132 Below the Equator 

not a common article. At the time we were there 
it was sixty dollars a ton, and frequently it runs 
higher than that. To try to keep warm by using 
it is quite beyond the means of the average man. 

The city was filled with Boy Scouts from Peru. 
We had felt quite a personal interest in them as 
they had come down the Pacific with us on the 
steamer. To meet them again, with bands of 
music and a fine-looking lot of Girl Scouts from 
Bolivia, was like greeting old friends, A party 
of distinguished looking men, wearing silk hats 
and carrying canes, accompanied them on this day. 
In fact, the president of Bolivia marched with 
them past our hotel. The enthusiasm was, of 
course, tremendous. Both the Boy and the Girl 
Scouts were a fine looking lot of young people. 

There are no theaters in La Paz. We wondered 
at this until the explanation was given that sing- 
ers and actors cannot remain here long enough to 
be able to use their breath for speaking or singing. 
This is a great drawback toward amusement in 
the evening, but the people who live there make 
up by afternoon sports for the loss of those pleas- 
ures. They play tennis and enjoy it at a height of 
eighteen thousand feet. 

Of course, people living in these high altitudes 
must be as careful of their descent to the sea level 
as the dweller in lower levels is in his ascent to 
the heights. La Paz is often referred to as the 



Arica 133 

most inaccessible city in the world. On this 
account it has been compared to the city of Tibet 
in China. But it fell to an Englishman who was 
employed by the Bolivian government to make 
it one of the best built and most sanitary cities 
in the whole of South America and to put it in 
touch with the outside world as well. Like all 
cities of high altitudes, it would be a fine residence 
for our prohibitionists. Wine is not prohibited 
here, but one cannot drink it with safety. Though 
seldom great wine drinkers themselves, those who 
have been brought up in French cities — as I was 
— and are accustomed to seeing the daily claret 
even at breakfast, have a homelike feeling when 
they see wine served in southern cities. The wine 
served is always a light wine, is drunk as freely 
as water, and is a custom never abused. We never 
saw a man intoxicated. Above eight thousand 
feet, however, wine or any stimulant, except tea 
or coffee, is considered harmful We were sorry 
to leave La Paz, but in it our soroche was always 
present, and the last night we were there we heard 
so much of the unfortunate people who had come 
up to this altitude lively and happy and had been 
carried down still and quiet! A personal friend 
of Colonel Knowles had died the night he reached 
La Paz. 

On all the trains, tanks of oxygen are carried, 
so that those who need it may have it at once. 



134 Below the Equator 

The women, that is, the natives, always carry a 
bottle of ether which they smell constantly. It 
permeates the car and makes it very disagreeable 
for those not accustomed to it. This ether habit 
was so objectionable to us and rendered us so 
uncomfortable that whenever we could get an 
apartment to ourselves and shut off the sickening- 
sweet odor of that anaesthetic we always did so. 
After being regaled with the pleasant tales we had 
heard of the deaths in this high altitude, and with 
our personal knowledge of what we had seen, we 
felt that one week in the highest city in the world 
was quite enough for those who had lived 
nearer sea level in Chicago. Therefore we were 
not sorry when our train pulled out for another 
city. 

Here we took leave of Dr. Wilson and Mrs. 
Wilson and their daughter, with whom we had 
traveled since leaving Cuba. They were making 
the trip only as far as La Paz. At the Isthmus, 
Miss Wilson, a most attractive girl, had counted 
among her ardent admirers the English consul, 
Mr. Murray. As she had been in receipt of many 
letters and cables during the two months we were 
together, we were not surprised to learn recently 
that they had been married. Thus we were not 
without our romance on the trip ! 

We next went to Arica, in Chile, where we were 
to await the steamer which would take us to Val- 



Arica 135 

paraiso. The sleeping-car accommodations of this 
road are hardly those of the luxurious Pullmans 
of our own country. The grade of the road is 
very steep, so much so that it looked dangerous. 
We seemed to be riding on the rocks and almost 
had the life shaken out of us. The scenery was 
magnificent, it is true, but we were too uncom- 
fortable to enjoy it. Our discomfort was, of 
course, heightened by the altitude, which during the 
whole of that ride was fourteen thousand feet. 
The train was a narrow-gauge one and we 
were often put on racks to keep us from going 
down the steep grades too rapidly. With head- 
ache and nausea we could not enjoy the splendid 
view. What a dreadful thing soroche is ! I trust 
that from this day forth whenever my lord and 
master takes a notion to travel and wishes me to 
go along he may select a route on a lower level, 
say, ten or twelve thousand feet ! 

Our "luxurious" compartment car furnished 
not even a drop of water with which to make tea 
the next morning. Nothing to eat and nothing 
to drink until two o'clock, when a diner was put 
on. I had carried a little alcohol stove and had 
my own tea. It never once occurred to me that 
I should not be able to get water. My husband 
had a pint bottle of Apollinaris left over from 
dinner the night before. I tried that to make my 
tea, but — a viler drink I never tasted in all my 



136 Below the Equator 

life ! We forced it down, thinking it better than 
nothing. 

Running across the colored desert we could see 
faintly in the far distance the blue Pacific again. 
Then suddenly at a turn we dropped rapidly to 
sea level and beautiful Arica. This city is one 
of the seaports of Chile and is the oasis of that 
desert coast. The great rock overlooking the town 
has a fine fortress. It commemorates the tragic 
death of that splendid Peruvian, Colonel Bolo- 
gnesi, and of his brave flag-bearer. Rather than 
surrender his flag, the young man leaped on horse- 
back, flag in hand, into the blue waters of the 
Pacific. 

Arica is full of green trees and other verdure. 
Its plaza is charming, its people beautifully 
dressed and agreeable. We sat in the brilliant 
starlight listening to the music and watching the 
young people, who were decidedly flirtatious. It 
was carnival time. Gorgeous costumes, many 
maskers, all gay and brilliant, thronged the 
streets. Some rode around the plaza in carriages 
or motors. Most of them walked, however. 
Confetti and paper ribbons were plentiful. Fire- 
crackers and laughter made the scene very festive. 
Here, also, because of the earthquakes, the houses 
are one-storied. On the steamer just before we 
reached Arica we had felt one hard rap at sea, 
but I am ashamed to say that we did not recqg- 



Arica 137 

nize it. We heard the tremendous bump, as 
though the boat had struck a rock. It shivered 
and quivered, but realizing that we were too far 
from shore to encounter a rock, we thought it just 
the shifting of the iron cargo which the peons 
often handled very roughly. Often an earthquake 
at sea is accompanied by a high wave. Once a 
wave sixty feet high carried houses in Arica a mile 
inland, taking a ship with it, and the latter became 
the home of some Indian families until the next 
earthquake, when a similar wave carried it back 
to ocean without hurting the occupants. However, 
our earthquake treated us to no such thrilling 
experience. 

The great Morro Rock towers over the town. 
It rises abruptly from the sea, perhaps twelve 
hundred feet in its sheer height, and stands alone, 
like a guardian of the town, which it really is. 
The rest of the city is very flat, and hidden among 
the pretty green trees. There is a military post 
on the rocks, and strangers are not admitted. The 
Peruvians have never been reconciled to the loss 
of Arica, and Chile did not cover herself with 
glory in her manner of taking it. She promised 
faithfully that at the end of a certain time she 
would give Arica the choice as to which country 
she should belong to. It was to be decided by 
popular vote whether she should stay with Chile 
or return to Peru. The time came and went, but 



138 Below the Equator 

beautiful Arica with all her fertility and green 
loveliness in this heart of the desert coast still 
belongs to Chile. It is claimed that when the vote 
was to be taken Chile slyly sent so many people 
to Arica, acting in various departments for the 
government, that the Chileans were greatly in the 
majority. Consequently, they overwhelmed the 
Peruvians in number. The chances are that Peru 
will never again be able to regain her charming 
little city. They say that all who visit Arica fall 
in love with her. We certainly did. Twice we 
were there, and, oh, how we hope to go again! 
From the roof of our hotel (over a beer saloon, 
but with the most palatable meals possible to find) 
we could see hundreds of miles into clear crystal 
air. Five snow-clad mountains, glorious ones, met 
our gaze! Before us lay two ranges; the first 
began at sea level, the second was a long way off. 
Then, towering over them all were five white- 
crowned kings — the wonderful Andes ! We were 
living in their midst, yet each time we saw them 
we were thrilled anew. Nothing can exaggerate 
their splendid dignity, and as often as we watched 
them we never lost that sense of awe that their 
glory brought to us. 



CHAPTER XIX 

TACNA 

ITj WAS at Arica that we ate the finest fruit we 
saw anywhere in South America — the chiri- 
moyas. We ate many strange and delectable things 
in this far-away land, but nothing which so pleased 
us as this. No description can do them justice. 
They are called custard apples. It is impossible 
to exaggerate their delicious taste. 

Because of the presence of soldiers and offi- 
cers, Arica is military in character. It was inter- 
esting to hear the military mass and to see the 
officers in their glittering uniforms and with drawn 
swords. This city is a sacred spot to the Peru- 
vians. Aside from its natural beauties, it was the 
scene of that brilliant fight in which, although the 
Peruvians lost, they covered themselves with 
glory. The harbor is one of the best on the 
coast, and Arica has the appearance of a thriving 
little town. They say that Pizarro here built some 
ships for the invasion of Chile, and on the broad 
beach there was a prehistoric cemetery with some 
embalmed mummies said to be equal to those of 
Egypt. They were remarkable for the rich amber 

139 



140 Below the Equator 

tints of the eyes, which scientists say are made 
from cuttlefish, which is very abundant in these 
waters. The story is told by some writer that 
when those eyes were sent to New York to be 
polished the workmen were affected with violent 
irritation of the eyes, lips, nostrils, and throat. 
All of them recovered, but the work was not 
resumed. In the analysis it was shown that many 
unknown minerals mixed with nitrate had been 
used. 

Forty miles away is a beautiful little city called 
Tacna. It is the capital of the province and a 
great resort for the people from Arica. Tacna 
has a beautiful mountain view. Between the two 
cities lies a desert, and the latter is often the scene 
of wonderful mirages. There is an ancient rail- 
road here, built by the Incas to connect Tacna and 
La Paz. It will be remembered that in the olden 
days it was said that the Incas living inland were 
able to have fresh fish every morning for their 
breakfast if they so desired. This was provided 
by a series of runners. They were so fleet of foot 
that many miles were covered during one day's 
run. Fresh men were stationed at intervals, a 
few miles apart, who snatched the package and 
started with it before the previous bearer had 
stopped. Almost incredible distances were thus 
covered in a short space of time. We were con- 
stantly shown the remains of these footpaths in 



Tacna 141 

our travels. They were from one to three feet 
wide, just enough for a man to run upon comfort- 
ably without stumbling. 

One gets a superb view of the mountains from 
lovely Tacna. There are about ten of them to be 
seen running from sixteen to twenty-two thousand 
feet. Probably nowhere else in the world can 
such peaks be seen, unless perhaps in Bolivia. The 
conditions for seeing the mountains at Tacna are 
nearly always perfect. The air is very clear. In 
Arica we found a beautiful fruit market — many 
different varieties of fruit and all good. The fruit 
of the passion flower, and an equally choice one 
called zapote, are fine. The latter is taken from 
the tree which produces the chicle gum. 

At Arica we saw a faithful but horrid bird 
called the gallinaza. It is the scavenger of the 
tropics. These birds are anything but attractive, 
I assure you, but they are distinctly sociable in 
the way they flock about yards and harbors. Even 
on shipboard we occasionally saw one on the mast. 
They say that the people down there hold them 
sacred. At any rate they are protected by law, 
and they certainly guard the health of the natives. 
Wherever anything is dead they are to be found 
in flocks, and, indeed, before the animal dies their 
remarkable scent seems to give them warning of 
approaching death. They may be seen circling 
in the air, hovering over the desired object until 



142 Below the Equator 

all movement ceases. We were told much about 
this important bird of the tropics. One humorous 
native told us that the educated people regard 
him as the only honest public official they possess ! 

From Arica we took an English ship for Val- 
paraiso. Coquimbo, Iquique, Antofagasta — 
each was visited, as were also the great nitrate 
fields of Chile. Antofagasta lies flat against the 
arid hills and mountains. She does not look 
attractive but is larger than Iquique. A large 
smelting plant for copper looked quite prosperous 
in the distance, but on close investigation it was 
found to be abandoned. It is said to have been 
filled with superb equipment, fine machinery, etc., 
but it was deserted. The men decided not to work 
any more and so it stands idle. A queer country 
this! 

Antofagasta is noted for its quantities of seals, 
but we saw only a few. We did see, however, an 
enormous number of the grampus, or blackfish. 
The captain said that they are about eighteen or 
twenty feet long. They look large from a dis- 
tance. The gulls are especially beautiful here and 
thousands of them gather. They are a beautiful 
soft brown or gray, with white heads and snow- 
white breasts. With wonderful swiftness they 
pounce down upon the silver fish that swim by 
the steamer. They are unusually large here and 
their wings when spread are enormous from tip to 



Tacna 143 

tip. Two whole days we spent in this spot, and 
it was while we stopped here that we met a charm- 
ing couple from New York, Mr. and Mrs. James 
Blaine. He was a cousin of James G. Blaine and 
his wife was the great-niece of Stonewall Jackson. 
Like all southerners, she had a lovely voice, and 
was very beautiful. He was a business man of 
unusual ability and equally attractive. Later on 
we became quite good friends, traveling together 
for about a month. We spent many happy hours 
in one another's society. 



CHAPTER XX 

THE CROSS ON THE MOUNTAIN 

IT IS a curious fact that the greatest wealth of 
South America is produced by its lifeless west- 
ern coast. From the standpoint of the tourist 
there is a deep fascination about it. One realizes 
that death is lurking here, stalking about searching 
for inhabitants for its already well-filled grave- 
yards. In fact, death is about the liveliest of all 
the personalities on the Pacific coast of South 
America ! All the way down its long length one 
thing stands out grimly conspicuous — the ceme- 
tery. Its crosses are the first things seen on 
approaching a town or village and usually the 
cemetery is much better filled than the town itself. 
In the development of this country, death is a 
foremost factor, always a big member of the com- 
munity. His percentage of life taken, somehow 
looms up more prominently before the casual 
visitor than do the accounts of gold found, or 
money earned. In all the towns along the coast 
the center of interest is the cemetery. There the 
cross is always prominent, emblematic of that suf- 
fering Christ who immortalized us all. High on 

144 



The Cross on the Mountain 145 

a barren hill it stands solemn and sacred, marking 
perhaps a pilgrimage made by the devout. On 
the top of the bleakest mountain one sees it as well 
as on the thatched roof of the hut of the Cholo 
Indian in Peru and Bolivia. On the Chilean 
slopes it is always appearing. The constant sight 
of the cross is a reminder that this is a Catholic 
country, that the people are a religious com- 
munity. But it is also the emblem of death — 
death with a resurrection, of course. To the 
Christian the cross means that. But it always 
means death first, and on this desolate coast death 
counts for so little. In this waterless district only 
the rugged survive, and when one falls, a dozen, 
it seems, are ready to fill his place. Splendid, 
stalwart, courageous youth copes against frightful 
odds on this arid coast. Fever, plague, enteric 
troubles, heart failure — all combine to kill his 
chances for success. The cry seems to be always, 
" Make room for the next! " If one is cut down 
in his youth no one has time to mourn. The man 
who fails is never spoken of. Here, as elsewhere, 
it is only success that counts. 

In this western part of South America one 
shivers and trembles. With all her beauty of land 
and sea, of air, sunshine, and climate, with all the 
wealth of her mines of silver and gold and her 
rich fields of nitrate, who would wish to claim her 
as his own country? Too many heartbreaks lie 



146 Below the Equator 

in the road to success. Too many graves serve as 
mileposts in that search for gold. The lure of 
the country is powerful, her charm undisputed. 
But he who courts must also fear her ! Let him 
approach her cautiously, for, until her fierceness is 
subdued, until her death-dealing diseases shall be 
conquered by cleanliness and sanitation, she is 
terrible in spite of her beauty. Some day, how- 
ever, all this will be a thing of the past. She will 
be conquered, tamed. Then human life will count 
with her. Youth will be her fairest jewel. When 
this time comes, smiling in health and prosperity, 
South America will stand out before an admiring 
world, glorious and invincible ! 

Antofagasta is well paved and has nice build- 
ings. Two cases of bubonic plague, however, kept 
us from desiring to linger. We had a beautiful 
sunset and the night was exquisite, a soft haze 
enveloping the horizon and the stars glittering 
through it. The ocean was so blue and the moun- 
tains deep rose. When the myriads of lights 
twinkled in the city after dark it looked like fairy- 
land. But that awful cemetery ! It seemed larger 
here than elsewhere. It was so ghastly, and I 
was glad when the night had fallen to hide it. 

As usual, we sat up late watching the blue tap- 
estry of the sky as it gradually became embroid- 
ered with sparkling stars. We saw again "our'* 
three crosses appear one by one — first the pretty 



The Cross on the Mountain 147 

False Cross, then the beautiful Astral Triangle, 
and at last, and most important, the Southern 
Cross. Splendid as was the sight of the heavens, 
the ocean was scarcely less brilliant. The Pacific 
was alive with phosphorus. Small boats hovering 
about the steamer appeared to be gliding about in 
fire and flame. Long we sat watching all this bril- 
liance — a strange and enchanting sight. Each 
wave, as it broke against the boat, sent up millions 
of sparks. All day we had seen large jelly-fish in 
the waters, some larger than dinner plates, and 
when darkness closed down suddenly upon us, as 
it always does in the tropics (there is no twilight 
there), we were partly prepared to see this won- 
derful night. 



CHAPTER XXI 

THE NITRATE FIELDS 

VAST as are the nitrate fields in Chile, there 
are many which have never yet been ex- 
plored. Between the nitrate fields and the sea is 
the largest strip of wholly unprofitable desert to 
be found anywhere in South America. Even in 
its barrenness and its brownness, however, it has 
a charm in the morning and evening lights. Deli- 
cate tints come out on the distant slopes. The 
nitrate fields are barren and dry — not a shrub 
or a blade of grass — a region of low, stony hills, 
an absolute desert. Everywhere the men are 
working, breaking the ground and loading the 
wagons, for the fields seem inexhaustible. As long 
as they last they will be of immense profit to their 
owners. 

It is said that the guano deposits of Peru have 
proved her undoing in more ways than one. They 
excite the cupidity of adventurers and often cause 
revolutions. We wondered whether the nitrate 
fields of Chile would ever experience the same 
troubles. Rivalry between contractors is already 
a source of dissension. Chile made us think not 

148 



The Nitrate Fields 149 

a little of Egypt. Although the coast is desolate, 
inland she is one of the richest countries in the 
world. Along the Nile the opposite is true. 
There a green ribbon of fertility stretches many 
miles, while inland it is barren and dry. The con- 
trast was interesting. Lucky for Chile that her 
coast is rainless, else long ago the precious mineral 
would have been swept with her soil out to sea. 
Chile shares with many of the countries of 
South America the reputation of having large 
estates, and she possesses a stimulating atmos- 
phere which makes her people more hardy than 
the Peruvians. They are very fond of horse rac- 
ing, and, unlike Peru, she has never had any revo- 
lutions. Indeed, Chile is the only country in South 
America which can boast of never having had a 
revolution within the memory of living man. It 
is a curiously shaped country. Like a long, 
slender serpent it lies, three thousand miles along 
the Pacific coast, and its widest part is but a hun- 
dred and twenty-five miles. It is divided by the 
coast range in the west and the Andes in the east, 
and from one of its large cities, Santiago, both 
ranges may be seen. The southern portion is 
thickly wooded; it has a wonderful lake region 
and is subject to heavy rainfall. The northern 
part is hot and dry. The southern portion is very 
cold. In Santiago one may have summer in the 
morning and winter in the afternon by climbing 



150 Below the Equator 

the mountains. While her nitrate fields are Chile's 
greatest possessions, she is rich in many other 
things. She has wonderful mines of copper. 

After the conquest of Peru, Chile was invaded 
by the Europeans. Diego de Almagro heard of 
this wonderful country; that it was richer in gold 
and silver even than the one he had just con- 
quered. Gaining permission from Charles v/ in 
1535, he took an army of Spaniards and some 
Indian captives, crossed over the Bolivian heights 
and attempted to take possession of the unknown 
country. Hunger and cold, and the treacherous 
mountain sickness, soroche, caused his expedition 
to fail, and when he returned to Cuzco the perfid- 
ious Pizarro had him beheaded. This ended for 
a time any attempt to get into Chile. But a second 
expedition, conducted by Pedro de Valdivia, was 
successful, and in 1540 they founded the new city, 
Santiago. The natives resented the intrusion of 
the Spaniards. These natives were Araucanians, 
the bravest and best fighters in all the southern 
country. There followed a long hard struggle 
for two hundred and fifty years. In 18 10 Spain 
sent out an army to put to rout the Spanish-Irish- 
man, Bernardo O'Higgins, who was fighting for 
the freedom of his adopted country. He joined 
General San Martin in his struggle to expel the 
Spaniards from the entire continent. After three 
years of fighting they finally accomplished this. 



The Nitrate Fields 151 

The grateful Chileans offered San Martin the 
governorship of their country, but this unselfish 
patriot declined the honor and in a public assembly 
named O'Higgins dictator. 

Chile's troubles did not end here, however. 
Peru was jealous and sent General Osorio again 
to fight Chile. He defeated O'Higgins, but when 
he attacked San Martin he was unsuccessful. This 
time the Act of Independence was read in the 
plaza of Santiago, an oath taken by all the leaders, 
and Chile has always had a kindly feeling for the 
United States since then, because she was the first 
nation to recognize the young republic. In 1823 
General O'Higgins resigned his dictatorship and 
a period of great confusion followed. In fact, 
Peru, Bolivia, and Chile were constantly at war 
until 1 883, when a treaty of peace was signed. At 
this time the boundary line was arranged between 
Chile and Argentina, a country with which Chile 
was always on the verge of war. In 1 8 8 6, Balma- 
ceda was elected president. He instituted a great 
many reforms, but was exceedingly arbitrary in his 
methods. He brought about a civil war, and, de- 
pressed and downcast over the failure of his 
efforts to bring about a happy state of affairs, he 
finally committed suicide. 



CHAPTER XXII 



THE "TIN KING" 



/^OQUIMBO was a pretty looking town, but 
\^Ji as we were not permitted sufficient time to 
ride out to beautiful La Serena we did not get off 
the boat. It is at La Serena that the most famous 
canaries, the best songsters, are to be found. 
These pretty yellow-feathered creatures were 
brought on the steamer in quantities and from this 
time on we had their joyous little morning songs 
to awaken us. The sharp, jagged rocky islands 
in this harbor make it very picturesque. The 
islands are small, but covered with snow-white 
guano they look very pretty. 

A young Peruvian, the nephew of Peru's presi- 
dent, was aboard. He spoke many languages and 
bought many of the canaries. His personal card 
carried his mother's last name, a curious custom 
in all Spanish countries. The days on the Pacific 
were glorious. Now that we were out of the fog belt 
the mornings broke clear as crystal. A fine breeze 
kept up all day. One might think a day on a steamer 
uninteresting, but it is never so on the Pacific. There 
is always something of interest to see. 

152 



The "Tin King" 153 

We had the "Tin King" on board. He trav- 
eled with six servants, secretary, etc. He is a full- 
blood Indian, a Bolivian, who lives mostly in 
Paris, and has six million pounds, or thirty million 
dollars. His two daughters have been highly 
educated and are said to be quite up-to-date and 
charming. His wife, an Indian squaw, slept on 
a sheep skin behind the door when first they went 
to Paris, and he had great difficulty in getting her 
to sleep in a bed. He was rather a nice looking 
man of about fifty-five. To me he seemed too fair 
for an Indian, and it was whispered that he had 
paid a beauty doctor large sums of money to 
lighten his skin. He really is an Indian, though, 
and once wore the split breeches. 

A great crowd came aboard at Coquimbo. The 
steamer was uncomfortably packed. People with 
baggage lying around in the salon, entire families 
of them, made the boat simply intolerable for two 
days. We who enjoyed the luxury of a private 
bath felt amply repaid during those two days for 
the dreadful amount they charge for such things 
along this coast. Leaving Coquimbo the sea was 
pretty rough. The boat pitched and dipped all 
night and it was very cold. If we ever take a 
tropical trip again we shall certainly be wiser and 
carry the heaviest of coats. With our ordinary 
wraps we were almost frozen. Yet the rough 
ocean seemed more wonderful than ever. The 



154 Below the Equator 

big waves parted by the ship dashed away from 
her side like mountains of snow, and the waters 
seemed greener than usual in contrast. I have 
always loved the ocean, but mixed with my love is 
a good, wholesome fear. With all its loveliness 
and beauty it is cruel. 

My thoughts flew back to twenty-odd years ago, 
to the waters of the Atlantic, when our storm- 
tossed vessel was nearing the straits of Gibraltar. 
The wind had been blowing sixty miles an hour — 
a hurricane ! No one was allowed on deck, and 
everything portable was lashed with ropes. The 
waves swept over us and we knew we were in 
great danger, but we also knew fear would not 
help us — so my husband and I, with our baby 
boy, sat close and waited and hoped. Well, we 
weathered the storm, but, though we lay at anchor 
for twelve hours before the great fort, we never 
landed and never saw it except through our field 
glasses, because before the sea was calm enough 
to let a pilot boat take us ashore we had resumed 
our journey to Egypt. 

A large steamer running about four miles away 
from us had followed us right along. Many of 
the passengers seemed a little nervous. I was not 
nervous on the Pacific, but should have been so 
on the Atlantic for, although American, we were 
traveling on an English ship. South America, 
like the United States, was neutral, but a German 



The "Tin King" 155 

raider on the Chilean coast might have made us 
trouble. 

The next port was Valparaiso. Two pretty 
severe earthquakes had been felt there shortly 
before and, remembering the terrific one of a few 
years ago, we were not anxious to encounter an- 
other, no matter how slight. No ship in South 
America ever lands in port on the western coast. 
The fletero and his little craft is as important 
and as well known as the great nitrate fields them- 
selves. The ship anchors off from a quarter to 
a half and sometimes a mile at sea, depending on 
the calmness or the roughness of the harbor. 
Dozens of these fleteros with their small rowboats 
come out to meet the steamer. At a given signal, 
after the doctor has declared the ship out of quar- 
antine, they all approach the vessel. Then 
pandemonium reigns. Screaming, fighting, shriek- 
ing, they all endeavor to board the boat at once. 
Two men usually occupy the little boat, one with 
the oars, the other trying to make the landing. 
With enormous billows sweeping under the vessel 
this is a difficult and sometimes dangerous feat. 
The steamer and the small boat bob up and down, 
not always simultaneously. The unhappy pas- 
senger stands clinging to the rail on the steps let 
down for the purpose and frequently he is dipped 
in two or three feet of water while trying to make 
the boat. It is a trying moment for the inoffensive 



156 Below the Equator 

passenger, whose only guilt is that he has longed 
to see this southern hemisphere ! Indeed, the 
knowledge of the wonders and joys of the scenery 
awaiting him is the one thing that gives him 
courage to attempt the landing. Later, in the 
heart of the Andes or in a comfortable hotel on 
the Atlantic side, he feels with a certain pride that 
he has honestly earned the pleasures and the novel 
experience which is his. 

As we were engaging our fletero and looking 
with horror on the rough sea all about us the 
captain approached and informed us that he 
thought the landing would be dangerous on such 
an afternoon. We had thought it an ordinary 
sea, and, though somewhat appalled by the sight, 
had made up our minds to disembark. But we 
were easily persuaded to remain all night on board 
and land in the morning. We were not sorry that 
we did. The view of Valparaiso by night, with 
her beautiful suburb of Vina del Mar, was worth 
waiting for. The lights from the city were won- 
derful. It is a city of about two hundred thousand 
inhabitants and has only one level street. From 
this the town rises abruptly to the hills. It looked 
like a brilliant jewel, and placed conspicuously in 
the center was a statue of the Blessed Virgin. This 
shrine was lighted brilliantly and, although we 
were two miles or more out at sea, we had a superb 
view of it. The next morning the ocean was calm 



The "Tin King" 157 

and beautiful. We landed easily and found our- 
selves in a modern, lively, up-to-date city, with 
beautiful homes, superb gardens and an abundance 
of beautiful flowers, the glorious pink geranium 
blooming profusely everywhere. Vina del Mar 
is the fashionable suburb on the ocean for the 
wealthy Chileans. Many of them live there the 
year round and their homes are models of com- 
fort and elegance. 

We had fallen into the habit of the early 
desayuno, the breakfast of coffee and crackers. 
This is always served in one's rooms, of course. 
The second breakfast is called almuerzo and is a 
most substantial meal, served at twelve o'clock. 
Then there is a long wait until the nine o'clock 
dinner hour, but this is invariably broken by the 
afternoon tea or chocolate taken between four or 
five in the afternoon. In South America all the 
elite of the cities gather at this hour in the charm- 
ing little tea rooms or restaurants for tea, choco- 
late, and dainty cake. This is as good a time and 
place to see the real people of the various cities 
as is the plaza between six and eight, when they 
all walk around visiting and having a good time. 
The whole life is practically an outdoor one. This 
alone would make it wonderfully attractive to 
those who come from colder climes where from 
eight to ten months of the year they are cooped 
up in steam-heated houses. 



CHAPTER XXIII 

VALPARAISO 

VALPARAISO of course, enjoys the reputa- 
tion of having had probably the worst earth- 
quake in the world, This was not so many years 
ago that anyone has forgotten it. The quake was 
followed by a great tidal wave, and what the sea 
spared was afterward consumed by fire. People 
took their flight across felled buildings to the hills, 
and in the lightest of clothing were compelled to 
spend many hours in the chill air from the ocean. 
It is said to have been a fearful sight. The earth 
did not have the usual vibrating motion. Instead 
it swayed from north to south, and so terrible 
was the swaying that even the dogs protested. 
They whined and barked incessantly. The whole 
city was practically a mass of ruins. Paths were 
cleared in the streets and small fires built in the 
squares after the trembling had ceased, but for 
days none dared to enter their houses — the few 
that were left. They feared a repetition of the 
disaster. There was great loss of life, too, for 
many were caught under the ruins. We found no 
evidence of this in the grand city we entered, 

158 



Valparaiso 159 



however. It has been rebuilt and is now garbed 
in the grandest of modern dress. There was 
a quake the morning of our arrival and another 
in the afternoon. But all these temblors which 
keep the tourist keyed up and anxious seem not 
to affect the inhabitants at all. When questioned 
about them they smile and say "We shall never 
have another big one ! " 

Living in an earthquake zone would seem to 
me to have its drawbacks. I was in California 
when she went through the throes of that terrible 
one prior to the one in Valparaiso. My children 
were small, my husband was away, so my faithful 
nurse, Mary Conrad, and I endured this thrilling 
experience alone. Since then I have dreaded even 
the slightest temblor. Still, this would be a monot- 
onous world if we were not willing to take some 
chances in life, and though the earthquake is con- 
sidered a big chance in South America, we traveled 
six months, encountered half a dozen, but were 
never conscious of any, they were so slight. 

In an earthquake country one reads queer rules. 
Children are taught never to close their doors at 
night, as a shock can spring the lock and imprison 
them so that in case of fire they could not escape. 
The only comfort which one can have in living in 
a zone of this kind is that years usually elapse 
between really dangerous quakes. Somehow, one 
always seems to feel that since the big one has 



160 Below the Equator 

already occurred it is not necessary for him to 
move ! They do not change their residences be- 
cause they feel sure that they are not likely to 
have another. 

Valparaiso has certainly had some trying times. 
She was three times captured and sacked by 
pirates. She was bombarded by the Spanish fleets, 
once destroyed by lire and suffered terribly by the 
Balmaceda revolution. But today, with a popula- 
tion of approximately two hundred thousand, she 
seems flourishing and is apparently without a care 
in the world. They say, however, that her coast 
line breeds the worst storms on the Pacific, and 
that many times the ships anchored a mile or so 
out at sea are obliged to seek safety in mid-ocean 
instead of risking approach to her shore. 

Three hundred and eighty miles west of Val- 
paraiso is a Chilean possession known as Juan 
Fernando Island. This island is the one made 
famous by DeFoe as the kingdom of Robinson 
Crusoe. After the great earthquake in 1906 
Chile feared the island had been sunk, but she 
found by sending a vessel out to investigate that 
the few fishermen who lived upon the island had 
scarcely felt the quake at all. The whole world 
is interested in this island because the children 
all love it for its famous story. 

It was here that we had to make up our minds 
whether we should go down the Chilean coast, 



Valparaiso 161 



around the horn and through the Straits of Magel- 
lan to reach Buenos Aires, or whether we would 
take the trans-Andean climb and go across the 
mountains. Everyone told us that no matter how 
beautiful we found the one we would certainly 
regret not having taken the other. They are 
equally famous for attractiveness and we realized 
that the only way, if we wished to enjoy peace of 
mind afterward, was to go by one of these routes 
and return by the other. But the ever-recurring 
news of war made us realize that if we should 
find it necessary to return home suddenly and 
still see the eastern coast of South America we 
had better choose the shorter route — the Andes. 
When we reached Buenos Aires, if all was 
favorable, we could then return by the other 
route. We had already decided to return home 
by way of the Pacific because of war news. 
It was with keen regret that we abandoned the 
trip through the Straits of Magellan. 

In the history of the world three voyages 
always stand out in my mind as the most daring — 
that of Columbus in 1492, that of Vasco da Gama 
to find India in 1497, and that of Magellan in 
15 19. Of these Magellan's was probably the 
most difficult. He had eight thousand miles of 
ocean to cross before he got to the Straits, and 
once there he encountered exceedingly stormy 
weather. I had always heard this channel de- 



162 Below the Equator 

scribed as very beautfiul. From the days of its 
discovery by the brave manner, writers have sung 
its charms and it is one of the show places of 
South America. No wise man can afford to 
miss it. 

It is not an easy trip. High winds and rough 
seas prevail to an extreme degree. Indeed, the 
heaviest seas in the world are said to be about 
Cape Horn. Being drenched by a wave and even 
knocked down by one is a common experience on 
shipboard, but the long line of islands stretching 
down the coast of Chile for seven hundred miles 
to the entrance of the Straits containing innumera- 
ble bays, through which the steamer passes, makes 
it a wonderfully attractive trip. There is one 
channel called Smyth's Channel which arouses the 
admiration of everyone. 

All along the headland of this stern and lofty 
coast are magnificent mountains, some of which 
rise abruptly two thousand feet out of the ocean. 
There is no coast in the world more dangerous 
than this, for should a ship become disabled the 
strong current would be fatal. However, the 
navigators are skilled, the machinery kept in good 
condition and the trip frequently made. In spite 
of the gray drapery of mists which are so fre- 
quent here the shore can be clearly seen. Long, 
snow-crowned ranges with their green glaciers 
present a most imposing sight. Sometimes the 



Valparaiso 163 



latter lie only two hundred feet above the sea. 
The Tres Montes are conspicuous for their 
grandeur, and the spray breaking on the sides can 
be seen fifteen miles away. We longed to take 
this trip. What cared we for rough seas or mat 
de merf We wanted to see Patagonia and the 
Straits. 

Patagonia means the "land of the big paws, or 
big feet." It had alv/ays seemed so far away that 
it was a land of enchantment. In spite of the 
descriptions of its bleakness and bareness it had 
always seemed like another world, and I had a 
strong desire to go in and investigate. But alas — 
half her charm has gone. Patagonia has lost her 
name. There is no Patagonia now. She has dis- 
appeared from the map, having been absorbed by 
Chile and Argentina. Those curiously formed 
natives of which I had read so often, high in bust 
and with arms like tree trunks, small lower limbs 
so out of proportion to the upper half of their 
bodies, and said to be owing to their life on horse- 
back — with long black hair, eyes as dark as thdir 
hair, and teeth white as pearl. They were still 
there, it is true, but they are no longer Patago- 
nians, the people of the " land of the big paws." 
They are now Chileans. 

Tierra del Fuego, another land of mystery which 
in my earliest youth had attracted me by its musi- 
cal name, had also to be passed by. My lessons 



164 Below the Equator 

in geography were always perfect whenever ques- 
tions in reference to this land were asked. I was 
almost heart broken when it was necessary to cut 
it from the route, although I still cherished a hope 
that the war clouds would scatter and that we 
might see it on the return. Around Cape Horn 
and through the Straits the weather is always 
turbulent. The Storm King rages there. The 
seas run mountain high and the winds are said to 
be terrific. A ship has to fight bravely, and it 
usually wins the battle, though many are said to 
be lost every year in Cape Horn waters. Often 
the sailors are frozen to death and even when the 
ship gets through safely she is somewhat maimed 
and crippled. 

It is in this part of the world that the albatross 
loves to come. As a rule it keeps away from 
inland places, preferring the open seas. But some- 
how it seems to feel that it will be repaid for com- 
ing here. It is, of course, a man-eating bird, and 
is enormous. Stories are told of specimens meas- 
uring from twenty to twenty-four feet across the 
wings. If an unfortunate falls overboard the 
albatross pounces down swiftly and picks out his 
eyes, nose and ears in less time than it takes to 
tell. Beautiful as this bird is, I should not care 
to see one in the open sea. It is horribly sug- 
gestive ! 



CHAPTER XXIV 

SANTIAGO AND CRISTOBAL MOUNTAIN 

ONE morning about five-thirty we left Val- 
paraiso and took the train for Santiago. 
As has already been said, the trains do not run 
daily, and as a consequence they are usually 
packed. Fortunately we had our parlor-car chairs 
in advance. The ride consumed only a few hours 
and was delightful. The country was under beau- 
tiful cultivation. There were vineyards and fruit 
farms galore. At the stations the fruit vendors 
were extremely picturesque, especially at Llai-Llai, 
where long tables filled with luscious nectarines, 
peaches, grapes, melons, etc., were temptingly dis- 
played in baskets. These extend the whole length 
of the station, are heavily loaded and good to 
see. Back of them stood the women, usually 
dressed in pretty colors, bright pinks, blues, and 
yellows. Silently they offer their wares. Not a 
word is spoken, for they are not permitted to open 
their mouths — an excellent rule! Quietly and 
comfortably we selected our fruit and it proved 
delicious. 

The mountains and rolling country, where an 
165 



166 Below the Equator 

occasional glimpse of snow peaks was to be had, 
still enchanted us. We never tired of it. We 
reached Santiago for almuerzo. That afternoon 
we walked up to the top of the Santa Lucia Hill in 
the center of the city and had a fine view. But it 
is certainly a climb. Santiago impresses one most 
favorably. It was the finest city we had yet seen 
on our journey. It is larger and much more im- 
posing than Valparaiso. The wide alameda is 
called Avenida de las Delicias, and it deserves its 
name. It is six hundred feet wide, a superb 
avenue. The city gives every indication of its 
comfortable, modern equipment. This view from 
Santa Lucia Hill is famed the world over. We 
watched the sunset, a glorious red and gold, and 
opposite all this splendor, but toward the east, 
stood San Cristobal mountain. It was snow white 
when we saw it first, but before we left, it deepened 
to rose color just as though it had been painted — 
as indeed it was, by God's hand! No human 
artist could have given it so exquisite a color. 

From their wide alameda the Andes are glori- 
ous and seen plainly. This street is filled with 
beautiful trees, and wandering through all these 
strange and beautiful cities we would sometimes 
gasp and wonder if the very interesting trip we 
were making was a reality. The human being as 
a rule is a most adaptable creature. Accepting 
everything that comes along as a matter of course, 



Santiago and Cristobal Mountain 167 

he often finds himself in the midst of scenes of 
which he has dreamed for years, yet he plods along 
with hardly a thrill for the splendid sights he had 
longed for and is now actually experiencing. This 
was our case. Calmly we viewed these wonderful 
places which we had hoped, but never expected, to 
see. We were perfectly calm and matter-of-fact 
about it. Is this just human nature? We seldom 
get what we want just when we want it ! Perhaps 
that is the reason why when we do realize our 
ambitions we are seldom as enthusiastic as when 
we anticipated them. However, I think we appre- 
ciated our trip to the full, although we may have 
lost some of the enthusiasm of early youth. 

I find my mind often reverting to the excellent 
food so often served in the pretty little restaurants 
in these South American cities. There is a very 
fine one in Santiago, bearing the name of the city. 

This reminds me that I have not dwelt as much 
as I meant to on the delectable foods of South 
America. For instance, in Lima we were served 
with delicious meals. The Lima corn deserves 
especial mention, the grains being as large as 
dimes and yet so tender they melted in one's 
mouth. Never have I tasted anything finer. 

The weather while we were here was cool and 
delightful, and again we met the charming Chilean 
couple, Senor and Seriora Mardones, whom we 
had first seen on shipboard. She spoke a little 



168 Below the Equator 

French and he a little English in addition to their 
own Spanish. We were both improving in Span- 
ish and managed to have some very good times 
with them. They lived in Santiago and were most 
cordial and hospitable in their treatment of us. 
A fine museum and art gallery was thoroughly 
enjoyed. And we were delighted to find some 
modern American paintings there. Two Chicago 
artists were represented. 

The Quinta Normale (Agricultural College) 
was singularly interesting. Great fields of vege- 
tables and fruits and old trees were cultivated 
there. It is the gift of a wealthy woman of the 
city and is certainly a progressive institution. 

The women of Santiago are particularly beau- 
tiful. They are not so stout as the women usually 
are in tropical countries. The manta is folded 
here in such manner as to be most becoming to 
them. This city, the capital of Chile, has a popu- 
lation of four hundred thousand, is walled in by 
great mountains, has most beautiful drives, and 
the parks and pleasure resorts are as fine as any 
we ever saw. Flowers and creeping vines are to 
be seen in wild profusion. Bright waters splash- 
ing from fountains, marble statues adorning the 
drives, and always that wonderful range of the 
Andes! Could any city in the world be more 
beautifully situated than Santiago de Chile? 

While driving one afternoon we met the presi- 



Santiago and Cristobal Mountain 169 

dent and his wife, a very handsome couple. They 
knew our friends and were most courteous in their 
reception of us. It was in Santiago that we saw 
for the first time the women conductors on the 
street cars ! We had not been struck by any par- 
ticular independence in women since we had come 
to South America. Indeed, among the working 
classes the women are rather sad looking objects. 
Hard working, looking older than their years and 
usually with an expression of dejection and sad- 
ness, especially on the western coast we had 
observed their look of hopelessness. The South 
American working woman had seemed to us the 
embodiment of the spirit of those awful ceme- 
teries on the barren slopes of the Pacific which so 
haunted us. She seemed such a contrast to the 
sturdy, lazy husband. The despair in her eyes 
often wrings one's heart. She seems to realize the 
hopelessness of her own condition. 

But here in Santiago the women conductors 
were a great contrast. They were alert and up- 
to-date. The lively way in which they did business 
was most inspiring. They had on dark-colored 
dresses, with white aprons and many small 
pockets in which to carry their change. They 
wore the queerest round black sailor hats with high 
crowns, also a brass insignia, or lettering, denot- 
ing their calling and dignity. Those funny little 
hats perched high on their heads set me to laugh- 



170 Below the Equator 

ing every time I saw them. But they were no 
laughing matter to those who wore them. These 
women were as solemn and serious looking as one 
could find anywhere. 

As is usual in this country, there are beautiful 
churches in Santiago filled with solid silver and 
gold-leaf ornaments and wonderful carvings, and 
with a fortune in jewels decorating the statue of 
the Blessed Virgin. The rich Catholics here show 
their devotion by bringing in their fine raiment and 
jewels as offerings of thankfulness for some favor 
prayed for and received. The collection is often 
attractive and certainly it is valuable. The clean 
mosaic floors of the churches are sanitary as well 
as handsome. We enjoyed many days in this 
famed city, visiting the cemetery and wander- 
ing through the beautiful streets and imposing 
buildings. The Santiagoans are justly proud of 
their beautiful cemetery. No vehicle is allowed 
within its sacred portals, but all tourists are ad- 
vised not to miss seeing the artistic and costly 
monuments it contains. We wandered through 
it for several hours, but in spite of its beauty the 
terrible practice which prevails throughout South 
America ( haunts me yet — a gruesome recollection. 
pThey have a custom of airing the tombs, that is, 
the corpses, and we had observed a frightful odor 
several times. We were attracted to a quaint 
little chapel and entered it. What was our amaze- 





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Santiago and Cristobal Mountain 171 

ment and horror to discover a white coffin with 
the lid removed, exposing the body of a child. 
The decomposition was far advanced and I need 
not add that we did not tarry long. 

In the early morning before we left we were 
treated to a fine earthquake. But we slept calmly 
through it and learned of it only when we were 
having our desaynno. 

Santiago's independence was declared in 1810. 
The climate here is good, yet it is considered ex- 
tremely unhealthy. Although the summers are 
not very hot it is very dusty. The wealthy resi- 
dents always go down to the sea, to Vina del Mar, 
or some other resort, or else to the beautiful lake 
regions, the springs or baths in the mountains. 
The conditions of health are improving because 
of interest lately aroused in sanitation, and doubt- 
less it will in time become a healthy place. It 
would be a delightful city in which to live the 
year round. 

General O'Higgins did a great deal for this 
place. He is the great hero of Chile and was 
made governor in 1778. He took part in the 
revolutionary struggle, finally becoming supreme 
dictator. He gave an excellent administration and 
it seems a shame that ungrateful Chile should have 
asked him to resign. She practically sent him to 
Peru to die. Later they regretted this treatment 
of their patriot and were taking steps toward 



172 Below the Equator 

reinstating him in Guano. Before this could be 
accomplished, however, he died. His remains 
were brought back to Chile, and almost every city 
has shown him honor in one way or another. 
Bronze statues are to be found everywhere and 
museums contain many of his belongings. 

As in all South American cities, the plazas and 
parks of Santiago are a most important feature. 
From them a superb view of the mountains can be 
obtained. They say that from Valparaiso, Acon- 
cagua is visible, but from Santiago it cannot be 
seen. However, the other peaks are just as beau- 
tiful, and often we sat in the public square and 
gazed at them from this distance, Santiago is a 
very religious place — at least as far as the women 
are concerned. Their churches and cemetery are 
their most priceless possessions. 



CHAPTER XXV 

THE CHRIST OF THE ANDES 

AT SIX o'clock in the morning we took the 
train for Los Andes, where we were to 
spend the night. A lovelier night cannot be 
imagined — full moon, brilliant stars, glorious 
crosses in the heavens ! But here we met with 
two great disappointments. The road to the 
Christ of the Andes proved impassable. We could 
not visit it, but had to pass right under it through 
a long tunnel. We could not even see it from a 
distance. This colossal statue of the Christ on 
the Andean border between Chile and the Argen- 
tine Republic, fourteen thousand feet above the 
level of the sea, commemorates the unique and 
impressive events which led to its erection. 

Years ago these two prosperous and high- 
spirited republics of South America were on the 
verge of war. They each had big warships build- 
ing in the shipyards of Europe. They had revived 
an old dispute in regard to the boundary line and 
were nearing a conflict. The controversy was 
rendered acute by the discovery that in the Pata- 
gonian section the boundary was not continuously 

173 



174 Below the Equator 

marked by mountain crests, and that there were 
valuable rivers in the region sending their waters 
through the hills to the sea on the Chilean side. 
This caused Chile to put forward other unex- 
pected claims to pass through this region. 

The British ministers at Buenos Aires and 
Santiago used their good offices with the two gov- 
ernments to effect a settlement and secure peace. 
Fervent appeals were made to avoid war. Bishops 
traveled through the country pleading for peace 
in the towns and villages, and it was proposed to 
place a statue of Christ on the boundary line be- 
tween the two countries. The women enthusi- 
astically endorsed the proposal. Petitions were 
sent to the legislatures and executives. The result 
was that both governments submitted the contro- 
versy to the arbitration of the King of England. 
He entrusted the affair to eminent jurists and 
expert geographists. When their decision was 
reached, both republics agreed to it cheerfully. 
Gratified with the outcome, both governments 
went further. They pledged themselves for a 
period of five years to submit all controversies to 
arbitration. Work on the four great warships 
was arrested, and the result of this disarmament 
has been remarkable. With money saved by 
lessening their military and naval expenditures 
they have constructed good railroads. Chile has 
also built breakwaters on her coast, and one or 



The Christ of the Andes 175 

two of Argentina's war vessels have gone into a 
commercial fleet, as they feel that they will never 
again need them for war with Chile. A most cor- 
dial feeling exists between Chileans and Argen- 
tines. The old feeling of bitterness has entirely 
disappeared. The suggestion of Bishop Bena- 
vente in regard to the erection of a statue of Christ 
on the boundary line at Puente del Inca was 
quickly carried into execution. The design was 
entrusted to a young Argentine sculptor, Mateo 
Alonso. The statue was cast at the arsenal at 
Buenos Aires from cannon taken from an old 
fortress outside the city. A year later it was 
placed in position and for a week there was con- 
tinuous festivity in both countries. Thousands 
attended the unveiling of the statue, coming up the 
evening before and encamping for the night, so 
that they might be present in the morning. The 
Argentines ranged themselves on the soil of Chile 
and the Chileans on the soil of Argentina. There 
was music, and the booming of guns which echoed 
and reechoed through the mountains. But at the 
actual moment of unveiling there fell a solemn 
silence. The statue was dedicated to the whole 
world as a practical lesson of peace and good-will. 
The ceremonies took place on March 13, 1904, 
ending with a prayer that love and kindness might 
penetrate the hearts of all men. 

The base of the statue is stone. On this is a 



176 Below the Equator 

granite sphere on which the outlines of the world 
are sketched. Resting on the granite column twenty- 
two feet high is the figure of Christ in bronze, 
twenty-six feet high. The cross supporting his 
left hand is five feet higher, and the right hand 
is stretched out in blessing. On the granite base 
are two bronze tablets, one given by the working- 
men's union of Buenos Aires and the other by 
the working women. One gives a record of the 
creation and a record of the statue. On the other 
is inscribed these words: 

Sooner shall these mountains crumble 
into dust than shall the Argentines and 
Chileans break the peace which they 
have pledged at the feet of Christ } the 
Redeemer. 

What a lesson for all war makers ! 

Our second disappointment was that we had 
to travel on a narrow-gauge road in a very un- 
comfortable little car and could not get our dor- 
mitorio until night. As the journey was wholly 
in the mountains, it was an experience. This was 
the fifth time that we had crossed the Andes, but 
each time the crossing seemed more wonderful. 
Our pleasure on this occasion was heightened by 
the knowledge that the train was to depart at an 
unearthly hour next morning — a quarter to six. 
Still, at that hour the mountains would be glorious, 



The Christ of the Andes 177 

so we went to bed in hope of a fine day. This 
hope was realized. Glimpses of the great gorges 
with the snow crowns above and every color of 
the rainbow beneath — the sight was entrancing! 
The story of Argentina reads like romance. 
For a long time this country was held in bondage 
by the absolute control of one man, General Rosas. 
His administration was not the best of the country. 
It was a tyrannical control where any expression 
of public opinion was rendered impossible because 
of his swift revenge if it did not meet with his 
approval. Of course, under such circumstances 
advance in civilization is impossible. Individually 
and collectively, he strangled all progress. Men 
were afraid to think for themselves. The savage 
brutality of this dictator was felt on all hands. 
His rule was particularly tyrannous in Buenos 
Aires, because here the greatest wealth was in- 
volved. In spite of all opposition to him, how- 
ever, he was an absolute power for eighteen years. 
Then a revolution broke out in full force. This 
one-man power was broken and, finding his life 
imperiled, he fled to the British minister for pro- 
tection. He was concealed for a day or two and 
then fled the country. This was in 1852. The 
people had been so held down by this man's low 
standard of civilization that there was little public 
spirit left to undertake the affairs of state. Still, 
there was an intense feeling of relief, especially in 



178 Below the Equator 

Buenos Aires, when it was known that he was no 
longer to be considered. They were a long time 
restoring themselves under General Urquiza, who 
had defeated Rosas and had held the reins of 
government since his flight. He was not an 
unqualified success, either. Disturbances broke 
out many times, and in i860 the tension became 
so unbearable that Buenos Aires at last awoke to 
the necessity of appealing to arms to decide what 
her future position was to be. She selected Gen- 
eral Bartolome Mitre to lead her forces. General 
Mitre proved successful in a decisive victory, and 
in October, 1861, this led to the evacuation of 
Rosario by Urquiza and practically ended the 
campaign. Peace followed soon and General 
Mitre became president. 

The new president introduced many reforms in 
the national policy and tried not to antagonize the 
provinces. He was aware of the jealous feeling 
existing everywhere in regard to Buenos Aires. 
But the aggressive attitude of General Lopez, the 
dictator of Paraguay, alarmed him. This little 
inland state he had never considered at all, but 
her warlike operations now began to worry him. 
So negotiations were set on foot to induce Uru- 
guay and Brazil to assist him in defeating the 
ambitious progress of Lopez. In 1865 the three 
countries decided to invade Paraguay. Of course, 
all this caused General Mitre to lessen his watch 



The Christ of the Andes 179 

on his own country, and his long absence in Para- 
guay in command of his army enabled politicians 
at home to undermine his personal influence. An 
awful visitation of the cholera came in 1868. The 
city was almost deserted during this calamity. 
This gave the politicians further opportunity to 
carry on their work, and in 1868 they elected a 
new president, Dr. Sarmiento. In spite of Mitre's 
resistance he was deposed. 

The Paraguayan question was finally settled, 
but at a great cost of men and money. The con- 
flict was heavy and when the struggle was ended 
Argentina found herself pretty well depleted. A 
few years later, in 1871, there came another epi- 
demic — yellow fever. The death rate was so 
appalling that business was paralyzed. Whole 
families died, and there were scarcely enough 
people left to attend the sick and bury the dead. 
But in spite of all these things that Argentina had 
to fight she made substantial progress during Sar- 
miento's presidency. People regain confidence; 
their commerce and industries took a fresh start. 
They took more interest in politics and turned 
their thoughts toward railroads and telegraphs, 
of which they had none. This was in 1874. The 
situation was full of complications, but they were 
not insurmountable. 

Revolutions and military disturbances still kept 
them busy, however, for the next few years; but 



180 Below the Equator 

with the accession of General Roca the situation 
changed. This man was a shrewd observer of 
men, reserved in manner, but never forgetting a 
favor. He was slow to act, but he was a perfect 
listener. They called him El Zorra, which means 
" the fox." He had great military knowledge and 
knew how to handle men. He managed the deli- 
cate situation wonderfully. His power was great 
in Argentina, where he was extremely popular 
with the army and brought the people closer to- 
gether. Under him the national feeling of jealousy 
and the small bickerings gradually disappeared. 
He established a strong central government, 
checked the revolutionary outbreaks, and held his 
administration with a firm hand. He saw the 
enormous possibilities of Argentina's undeveloped 
land. He knew its fertility and his endeavor now 
was to populate it. Industry grew apace, and the 
feeling of tranquillity which prevailed among the 
people assisted largely in the development. Agen- 
cies were opened in European centers inviting 
settlers to come to Argentina, revealing the great 
advantages the country had to offer. Foreign 
capital was attracted, for to pursue such a policy 
needed ample funds. Public works were inaugu- 
rated. Docks were built at Buenos Aires, and 
they began the water supply and drainage building. 
In 1 88 1 the government of the province of 
Buenos Aires selected La Plata as its capital 



The Christ of the Andes 181 

and drew up plans on a magnificent scale to build 
there. Thus was laid the foundation of the beau- 
tiful city of Buenos Aires. From this time the 
progress of the country was unrestricted. True, 
they had at times some internal dissensions, but 
the flower of civilization had been planted and 
nothing could stop it. The development of the 
country had received its impetus and the people 
were fully conscious of their own prosperity. They 
were cultivating parts of their great country. 
They knew that their boundless plains, though 
bare, were fertile where water could be provided 
for them or where the rain fell. Indeed, ever since 
the fall of Rosas they had been making progress 
slowly. Their railroads of late had enabled them 
to have well-appointed farms, and today their 
cattle ranches and sheep farms raise the finest 
stock in the world. 

Their waving fields of grass across the pampas 
conceal a rich, deep loam. This makes the finest 
farming land to be found anywhere. These rich 
estancias have been mostly tilled by Englishmen 
who mean to live on them the rest of their lives. 
Many of these men have become wealthy both by 
the rapid rise in the value of their land and by the 
sale of cattle and grain. They live most comfort- 
ably in houses of the bungalow style, and they 
bring over hard-working little Italians from the 
north of Italy who can stand the heat and work 



182 Below the Equator 

well in it. They keep them for the harvest-time, 
then pay them enough to go home and live for six 
months in Italy again. Of course, it is the rail- 
roads Argentina has built which makes all this 
possible. The distance across the pampas is im- 
mense and no other way of covering it would be 
possible. 

Settlers naturally choose locations near the rail- 
road, but in spite of the cultivation near it there 
are enormous areas back of it for the new adven- 
turer. The peons are best qualified to handle the 
live stock, but the Italian better understands the 
agricultural work. Of course, there is a great 
drawback to cultivation here — the drouth. The 
average rainfall is just about enough to give a 
drink and a little grass to the animals. Therefore 
these farms cling as much as possible to the foot 
of the Andes, so as to use the many streams which 
lie in these mountain valleys. The other great 
horror of the farmer is the plague of the locusts. 
These creatures here swarm in such vast numbers 
that it is practically impossible to resist them. All 
sorts of things have been done to destroy them, 
the commonest method being to dig ditches as 
they walk along the ground, into which the locusts 
fall and after which they may be burned. This 
method is not very successful, however, for many 
of them rise and fly away the moment they feel 
the heat. When they come they destroy every- 



The Christ of the Andes 183 

thing but fortunately their visitations are far 
apart. If they were frequent the land could not 
be tilled at all. 

Agriculture and the raising of live stock are the 
two principal industries of Argentina. Though 
the slopes of her mountains furnish gold and 
silver, copper and lead, her wealth in these pos- 
sessions is not to be compared with that of either 
Peru or Bolivia. But the possibility which lies in 
what she does possess is so great that Argentina 
is justly regarded as one of the richest countries 
of the lower continent. Seldom has nature lav- 
ished greater gifts upon a people. 



CHAPTER XXVI 

THE BIRD OF THE ANDES 

WITH this knowledge of her interesting his- 
tory we started on the climb which would 
carry us across into Argentina. We saw the snow- 
covered Aconcagua, nearly twenty-four thousand 
feet high, and below it, blue as a turquoise, 
lying at the foot of the glacier peak, that most 
incomparable of lakes, Lake Inca. Gleaming like 
a rare jewel, this lake reminded us much of 
Lake Louise in Canada. It is smaller, but it pos- 
sesses that wonderful turquoise blue color which 
the tourist finds so fascinating in the Canadian 
West. We were deeply impressed with the gran- 
deur and the glory of the mountains. Every color, 
every shade of the rainbow was there. The peaks 
looked ragged and sawtoothed, and with the Acon- 
cagua crowning them all it was a never-to-be- 
forgotten sight. We followed a pretty river (the 
Aconcagua) most of the way. The gorges which 
it had cut and the picturesque views it presented 
were many. The curves and twists of the railroad 
almost made us shudder. We saw evidences of 
many landslides and ran through miles of sheds 

184 



The Bird of the Andes 185 

which had been built to protect the road; we 
traveled slowly, and although the way was danger- 
ous, there was constant watchfulness. The men 
were ever on the alert. Through the long tunnel 
we sped, taking eight minutes to traverse it, right 
under the statue of the Christ of the Andes. A 
pleasant ( ?) idea occurred to me several times. 
In this country of earthquakes, what would be the 
result should one come while we were in the 
tunnel? I was considerate, however; I did not 
pass on my thought to my companion. 

We emerged from the tunnel into Argentina 
and still found a vast wilderness of gorgeous rocks 
and peaks. One of the first stations on this side 
is Puente del Inca, where there is a curious forma- 
tion from which the place is named. It is a natural 
bridge of stratified rock, one of nature's marvels, 
and rises eighty feet above the river. It is a fine 
arched bridge twenty feet wide, thirty feet thick, 
and about a hundred and fifty feet long. It is in 
constant use today. 

All through the mountains in Chile we had seen 
the great bird of the Andes, the condor. It often 
attacks the animals, the pigs and sheep, the chil- 
dren, and sometimes, though not often, a grown 
man. It sometimes roves as far north as eight 
degrees above the equator, but not often. Its 
range takes it as far south as the Straits of Ma- 
gellan. In the winter it goes near the coast, but 



186 Below the Equator 

in summer it is to be found only amid the very 
highest peaks. It is here that they rear their 
young. The female lays but two eggs a year, one 
in November and one in December. She has no 
nest, but hides her eggs in some small rock and 
keeps the young condor there until it is able to fly, 
which is not until its second year. This bird is a 
deep sleeper, and a favorite plan of the natives 
while hunting it, is to surprise it while asleep. 
Hunting the condor is dangerous sport. The trap- 
pers usually put a carcass out in the sun to attract 
the bird and then lie concealed until it pounces 
down upon the body. The bird is a proverbial 
glutton and gorges itself until it is so heavy it 
cannot fly. They then club and easily lasso it. 
It fights furiously, of course, and the hunters give 
it respectful attention ! They are wary about get- 
ting too near it, as the scratch from the beak or 
claw of a condor is as fatal as the bite of a Gila 
monster. 

In Santiago there are some wonderful speci- 
mens of the condor, measuring nearly twenty-four 
feet from tip to tip of the wing and six feet from 
beak to tail. The body is heavy in proportion, 
and they are brown in color. It looks like some 
gigantic demon, which indeed it is. They fly 
exceedingly high, often twenty thousand feet above 
sea level, and even with a strong glass they look 
like swallows. So remarkable is their breathing 



The Bird of the Andes 187 

power that even at this great height they circle 
around with scarcely a flap of the wings. The 
natives hold them in superstitious awe and many 
weird stories are told about them. The whole 
country honors them, and the condor is much used 
as an emblem, being emblazoned on their shields 
everywhere, like our eagle in the United States. 
In the season when the bird is in the mountains, 
men seldom venture out alone without revolver 
or gun. 

In these lofty heights strong winds prevail, 
often sufficiently strong to hurl both horse and 
rider from his track. Below Puente del Inca we 
noticed the queer tints of the rock and the jagged 
mountains. These are called penitentes. They are 
supposed to resemble toiling pilgrims, and the cliff 
above suggests a cathedral. This curious forma- 
tion is caused by the action of the sun and the wind. 

We passed some celebrated baths where, if one 
may believe the pamphlets, every disease known 
to the human race is successfully treated! The 
waters at Hotel Inca strongly stimulate the nerv- 
ous system, the heart action, and are good for in- 
digestion. Because they are so stimulating, people 
with poor hearts should never go there, but, hear- 
ing that the baths are good for everything, the 
rash flock to them and frequently forfeit their 
lives. It is said that here the Indians deceived the 
Spaniards and hid an immense quantity of gold. 



CHAPTER XXVII 

MENDOZA 

WE LEFT the mountains at Mendoza. 
Older than Buenos Aires and having been 
once destroyed by one of the most terrible quakes 
which ever visited the country, it is a most inter- 
esting little spot. This earthquake was of the most 
peculiar character. A subterranean groan was 
heard, and in an instant, without further warning, 
houses crumbled, people in the houses were killed 
to the number of fifteen thousand, and those who 
happened to be outside were thrown to the ground 
and badly injured. Fire broke out, and so many 
were dead and injured that the living were not 
sufficient to care for and bury them. It is said 
that the odors from the dead bodies became insup- 
portable. The shocks lasted until nothing was left 
standing. There were nineteen in twenty-four 
hours, seventeen of which were violent. They 
continued for about three months, diminishing in 
time and violence. There was much talk at the 
time of changing the location of the city, but, 
incredible as it seems, the people refused to move. 
They rebuilt the city, but in much lighter style. 

188 



Mendoza 189 



I was not familiar with this particular bit of 
history in regard to Mendoza, else perhaps I 
should not have enjoyed it as much as I did. My 
husband, however, was better informed. He in- 
sisted on going to a certain little hotel which with 
its one story I thought far less attractive than 
some of the others. He seemed determined to 
spend the night in this queer looking, ugly little 
spot, the only redeeming feature of which was 
its open-air dining-room, a beautiful patio sur- 
rounded with plants and flowers. "Why are you 
so persistent about staying here?" I asked him. 
He replied, "I have a reason." No amount of 
persuasion could induce him to tell me this reason 
until we had left Mendoza. That hotel was in- 
sured against earthquakes, the walls so built that 
in case of such a disturbance, loss of life would 
be at its minimum. My wise better half had not 
opened his mind to me, knowing full well that I 
should not sleep so comfortably in this little hotel 
if he should do so. We greatly enjoyed our din- 
ner in the open patio. The night was soft, the air 
heavy with sweet fragrance of flowers, the great 
luminous stars overhead. In the distance we 
heard low strains of music, curious melodies. We 
were the only Americans there, the other tables 
being occupied by Argentinas. 

Suddenly a procession of young men came by 
carrying banners and flags. They were accom- 



190 Below the Equator 

panied by the band playing martial music, for 
here as elsewhere the news of the great conflict 
in Europe is of the greatest interest. That very 
morning, cables had assured us that the United 
States was close to war. We tried not to believe 
it, but it was the weightiest thought in our minds." 
This procession carried, of course, the flag of their 
own country and that of France, and what was 
our pleasure to see in the center the flag of the 
United States! Argentina, although absolutely 
neutral, was in some manner known to be favor- 
ably inclined toward anything which the United 
States endorsed. It gave us a thrill to see our 
own flag carried by these young people, and 
strangers at the other table looked at us and 
smiled pleasantly. 

Mendoza is the center of the grape country. 
It is impossible to attempt a description of their 
wonderful vineyards, the grapes of which are the 
largest and most delicious I have ever seen. When 
we took our way on from Mendoza we found that 
a generous friend, Sefior Aldao, from Buenos 
Aires, had telegraphed and sent a large box 
of choice grapes to our stateroom for us. Men- 
doza is a popular winter resort for the Argen- 
tinas on account of the beautiful surroundings, 
cloudless skies, and superb views. But we felt 
that a place where the temperature is often in the 
forties, and where they never have a fire, would 



Mendoza 191 



be a trifle chilly. Though we missed the wonder- 
ful statue of the Christ, we saw here the heroic 
one of San Martin, a view of which alone would 
have been worth a trip to South America. 

The approach to this statue is very beautiful, 
constantly winding and unwinding as it climbs the 
hill. A pretty park is at its base, where there 
was a keeper, and half way up the mountain a 
charming little home in which he lived. Strange 
as it may seem, many vandals have attempted to 
injure this artistic figure. We were stopped on 
the way for just a moment by the guard, who 
questioned us and then permitted us to pass. The 
statue stands high on the hill, at the outskirts of 
the town. Off in the distance, as far as the eye 
can see, are the Andes, dignified and solemn, look- 
ing down upon it. A huge flying figure of Victory 
overtops the monument, spreading out her arms 
protectingly over San Martin, who is seated 
below on his horse. Around the base are scenes 
of war and colossal figures, all in bronze, in bas- 
relief. Horses, men, angels, and the condor, the 
eagle of South America, with wings outstretched, 
are beautifully conceived and finely executed by 
great artists. These figures are all life size. They 
hold that this is the finest statue of its kind in the 
world, and we could well believe it. Wherever 
we turned in South America we heard it discussed. 
They regard it as a much finer piece of work than 



192 Below the Equator 

the statue of Christ. Strange that we had never 
heard it spoken of in our own country. We saw 
nothing else to compare with it in this land of 
statues. South America never tires of honoring 
her heroes, and the spirit of patriotism which this 
engenders is quite worth while. Also, one has to 
be pretty familiar with the history of this country 
to be able to remember her streets. We found it 
odd, but thought it a fine custom, that many of 
their streets are named for their heroes or else for 
some historic event, some victory which is dear to 
them. It is quite common here to read such names 
as Calle i$th de Novembre, or Calle gth Decem- 
bre, or Avenue General O'Higgins, and so forth. 
This custom keeps constantly in the minds of the 
young the fact that their country does not forget 
its heroes ! 

We were amused by the comical method of 
watering the streets here. Boys carry buckets on 
long poles. Dipping water from a stream which 
runs along one of the principal streets, they then 
throw the water upon the driveway. Most of the 
houses here are one story, none of them more 
than two. This is, of course, because of the earth- 
quakes. Here also we were told that the many 
trees made the heat more intense. We had always 
supposed that trees giving shade would cool the 
atmosphere. Here they hold that they stop the 
breeze and make the air hot and unhealthy. 



CHAPTER XXVIII 

THE PAMPAS 

LEAVING the luxurious vineyards, we crossed 
the hot pampas with its farms of cattle and 
ostriches. We saw a great many of the latter. 
Here they call them rheas. Once there were thou- 
sands of them and they ranged as far south as 
Patagonia, but man, by ruthless slaughter, has 
caused the number to dwindle. We were not near 
enough to study the bird closely, but from a dis- 
tance it looked exactly like those on North Ameri- 
can ostrich farms, except a little smaller. It has 
three toes, one more than the ostrich of the 
North, but the feathers are not so beautiful. 
However, the general appearance is about the 
same. The male is said to have many wives. 
They nest in the dry grass, and at the approach 
of danger the female rises and deserts her young. 
The gauchos (cowboys) are fond of chasing 
the ostrich just for sport. The poor bird has 
no means of escape except in flight. But she 
certainly is fleet of foot and possesses endu- 
rance in a marked degree. She usually escapes. 
The rhea lives in contentment with the grazing 

193 



194 Below the Equator 

llamas and wild cattle. They all seem quite 
sociable. 

For a hundred and eighty miles our train ran 
in an absolutely straight line across this pampas — 
a most glorious stretch of railroad. We saw many 
locusts, although the great swarm had passed 
three months before. They had proved a veri- 
table plague then, covering the tracks, clogging 
the trains, and thus delaying traffic. The pampas 
— a bare, open prairie with grass and flowers, the 
former sometimes six feet high — has no trees 
and few streams. Yet the land is fertile. It is 
the absence of rain which forbids cultivation. 

After twenty-four hours on a far from com- 
fortable train, we reached Buenos Aires. A word 
about this train. From the American standpoint 
it was uncomfortable and bare. But the road was 
excellent. For a hundred and eighty miles it 
runs in an absolutely straight line, and is consid- 
ered by the Argentinas (who have good roads) 
their very best. But the officials seem not to care 
much for the comfort of the people whom they 
carry across this road. Any old kind of a car, 
it seems, will do to put them in. Often when I 
lay stretched out on my hard bed (with no springs) 
I wished I could take some of those who were now 
traveling with me, and who thought they were 
sitting in the greatest luxury, into one of our 
"Limiteds," where manicures, barbers, stenogra- 



The Pampas 195 



phers, and maids are employed for the comfort 
of those already installed in luxurious compart- 
ments. How they would open their eyes ! Not 
even our tourist cars or third-class compartments 
are as plain and bare as these, their best ones. 

But at last we reached Buenos Aires — majes- 
tic, clean, with well-paved streets, sumptuous pal- 
aces for homes — the Paris of South America. 
No description can do justice to its charm and 
delight. Here we met friends, Senor Aldao and 
family, who took us everywhere and showed us 
such hospitality as we had seldom enjoyed. The 
city made a profound impression upon me. Its 
public buildings, theaters, etc., compare favorably 
with those of any large city in the world. In some 
respects it made us think a good deal of Chicago. 
It is located on the frontier of a great prairie, with 
a large body of fresh water, the river La Plata, 
in front of it. This river is formed by the join- 
ing of two others, the Parana and the Uruguay, 
and together they make the greatest basin in the 
world. The river is about thirty miles wide and 
a hundred and twenty-five miles long. It runs 
from Buenos Aires to Montevideo. The Avenida 
de Mayo contains most of the hotels. We* were 
comfortably located at the Plaza, and I cannot 
exaggerate the comforts of this place. It is under 
the same management as the Ritz-Carlton and has 
comfortable beds, large rooms, beautiful baths, 



196 Below the Equator 

and an excellent cuisine. Not even in Paris had 
we ever enjoyed more delicious cooking. The 
hotel itself is a model of luxury. It has ballrooms, 
private dining-rooms, etc., and after the bareness 
of the western coast it seemed like a paradise. 
There are many others in the city almost as good. 

We had traveled so steadily for so many months 
that, although our appetites had never failed us, 
neither of us had taken on flesh. Both of us were 
strongly imbued with the idea (modern thought) 
that to be agreeable in the sight of one's friends 
one must be thin! Therefore it was with delight 
that we discovered in Buenos Aires that we had 
not gained. But, alas ! After eight or ten days' 
stay in this city this comforting thought melted 
away. We gained considerably because of the 
tempting and delectable dishes which we were 
unable to resist. 

The golf clubs, tennis courts, swimming pools, 
and statues to heroes here are things of beauty. 
A monument to San Martin in the Palermo, their 
lovely plaza, is an exquisite thing — so dainty and 
withal so spirited. Carved of the purest white 
marble, it stands as a glorious evidence of the 
honor in which this man was held. 

San Martin was born on February 25, 1778, 
of a Creole mother and a Spanish officer, in a 
small mission town of the Jesuits on the Uruguay 
River. He went to Spain at an early age and was 



The Pampas 197 



given the best military training. He served in 
many wars before he came back to the Argentine, 
but this service and the liberal ideas he imbibed 
made him the greatest hero, perhaps, of his coun- 
try. He stands in South America as Washington 
stands with us. He is recognized as the savior of 
South America and the winner of her independ- 
ence. When he returned to the Argentine he spent 
several years drilling an army which he had 
formed for the purpose of invading Chile. In 
1 87 1, in a famous battle, he gave that country 
her independence. 

The lessons he had learned while abroad made 
him master of his calling. He understood how to 
control an army. It was by great strategy and 
the maneuvering of his army that he gained the 
victory which set Chile free. Peru was then the 
stronghold of Spanish power in South America. 
Hidden behind mountains, surrounded by the des- 
ert and the ocean, she seemed impossible to subdue. 
Yet he felt that he must defeat the Spanish forces 
in Peru if he was to gain his ends. It was a diffi- 
cult problem to face. He solved it by getting his 
army on the eastern slope of the Andes and im- 
provising a fleet in such a way as to attack Peru 
from the coast. To everyone except San Martin 
himself it seemed a complicated scheme, but his 
persistence won. He had a solution for every 
contingency, a wise answer for every objection, 



198 Below the Equator 

and he carried out his plans in silence and in 
triumph. Indeed, the independence of South 
America has been written in the biographies of 
San Martin and Bolivar. 

The chief of San Martin's Chilean allies was 
O'Higgins. He had concentrated his forces in 
the Aconcagua Valley, separated from Santiago 
by a range of mountains. He figured that from 
the top of the pass he could control everything. 
The Spaniards, under General Marco, the Spanish 
governor, held the valley. San Martin got his 
infantry and cavalry into an abandoned road Tun- 
ing over the summit from east to west, and through 
this line of protection O'Higgins started with 
eighteen hundred men. San Martin was waiting 
for his appearance on the heights above. O'Hig- 
gins saw the enemy and attacked them at once. 
The Spaniards were unprepared for the assault 
and were at a great disadvantage. However, they 
formed a square and for a time defended them- 
selves bravely. But the end was inevitable, and, 
with half their number gone, they were obliged to 
break and retreat. Less than half escaped, but 
the patriots lost only twelve killed and a hundred 
and twenty wounded. 

The battle of Chacabuco was decisive in the 
struggle between Spain and her revolting colonies. 
The day after this battle the Spanish governor 
had to flee from Santiago. Chile became and has 



The Pampas 199 



ever since remained independent, and in Argen- 
tina all talk of Portuguese princes and compro- 
mises with Spain ceased. The national spirit had 
been thoroughly aroused. South America would 
never again lose her independence. 

The rest of San Martin's history, alas, is not 
so pleasant to relate. He made his old friend 
O'Higgins dictator of Chile, but he himself had 
an undying ambition and continued to fight the 
Spanish positions all along the coast of Peru. His 
friends at Buenos Aires were begging him to re- 
turn and help crush their enemies, who during his 
absence had broken out in one of their famous 
revolutions. But his personal ambition in regard 
to the western coast made him refuse his friends' 
requests. He turned a deaf ear to the proposal, 
and Argentina considered this an effront. She 
never forgave him while he lived, but looked upon 
him as selfish for not returning to them. He offered 
his services to Bolivar, who refused them. It was 
this spectacular interview between these two men 
which ended San Martin's career. He offered 
no complaint of Bolivar's rejection of his offer, 
although it cut him deeply, but gave up the army 
and the dictatorship of Peru, which he had held 
for seven years. He knew that he was no longer 
in favor in Argentina, yet he submitted in silence 
to the reproach of cowardice rather than discuss 
the treatment he had received from the hands of 



200 Below the Equator 

his friends. He preferred to sacrifice home, hon- 
ors, and money, even reputation itself, rather than 
jeopardize the independence of his country. He 
went to Paris, and to the generosity of a Spaniard, 
who was not even his own countryman, he was 
indebted to some comforts in his last days. He 
died in 1850, of an aneurism of the heart, at the 
age of seventy-two. Later on South America 
learned to appreciate his worth. They brought 
back his remains and have since held them sacred. 
Chile and the Argentine have erected statues to 
his memory, as has also Peru. He stands a great 
and pathetic figure in the history of South 
America. 



CHAPTER XXIX 

BUENOS AIRES 

SENOR ALDAO'S beautiful white marble 
palace in Buenos Aires, facing Palermo Park, 
is a good type of the well-to-do family home. Its 
spacious rooms, filled with rare and costly furni- 
ture, pictures, silver, bric-a-brac, were tasteful and 
delightful to the eye. Nearly every room opened 
off into a screened balcony with awnings, potted 
plants, rare ferns, and flowers. These screened 
porches were as much a part of the rooms, espe- 
cially the bedrooms, as were the luxurious private 
baths. The house itself is enormous and covers a 
great deal of ground in the most fashionable part 
of the city. We considered it a privilege to be 
entertained and enjoy the hospitality of the gener- 
ous occupants of this home. 

Though Sefior Aldao was a very busy man, and 
had been so ever since at twenty-six he was made 
Minister of Finance in Buenos Aires, he gave us 
much of his time. His title of Doctor was be- 
stowed upon him because of his reputation as a 
distinguished lawyer. A man in his early fifties 
now he is one of the most illustrious men of 

201 



202 Below the Equator 

his country. His reputation for honesty and integ- 
rity, as well as for ability, causes him to be con- 
stantly consulted in matters of government, and 
he has more than once been selected by the presi- 
dent to represent his country when important 
things demanded discussion at Washington. He 
knew many of our eminent statesmen in the United 
States, and spoke English perfectly, as did all his 
family. We had had the pleasure of making his 
acquaintance in our own country, and we appre- 
ciated the fact that a man who had to make 
appointments weeks ahead should spend so many 
hours with us while we were in Buenos Aires. His 
charming wife, daughters, and sons added much 
to the pleasure of our stay, and the delightful 
luncheons, dinners, and excursions we had together 
will stand out in our memory as our happiest and 
brightest moments in their country. 

Buenos Aires struck us as being thoroughly 
alive in all respects. The motto of the western 
coast — mahana — does not exist there. The pub- 
lic buildings impress one forcibly. The new Colon 
Theater, recently erected at great expense, is 
superb. Their School of Medicine, Court of Jus- 
tice, Palace of Fine Arts, and their famous cathe- 
dral with its electric lights queerly twined about 
the pillars, all show that the people are not nig- 
gardly in spending money to beautify their city. 
The Avenida de Mayo is one of their finest 




Photo by Carter H. Harrison 

The Capitol, Buenos Aires 




Photo by Carter H. Harrison 

Cathedral, Buenos Aires 



Buenos Aires 203 



streets, planted with long rows of trees and con- 
taining many beautiful residences. The Avenida 
de Florida is much narrower and is their prin- 
cipal shopping street. It is so crowded from five 
to seven in the evening that no vehicles are per- 
mitted to enter it. Here, as in all other parts of 
South America, from eleven until two the siesta 
is taken, and business men work from three in 
the afternoon until eight. Invitations for dinner 
are always for nine or nine-thirty. I was suffi- 
ciently curious to ask what they did during the 
opera season, and was told that the opera never 
began before nine-thirty and that a hurried dinner 
served at a quarter to nine enabled the fashion- 
ables to enter at the beginning of the performance, 
which was seldom before a quarter to ten. 

We tried to accustom ourselves to this Parisian 
mode of life, but as three of my servants in the 
United States who have been with me for twenty 
years regard my dinner hour (a quarter to seven) 
as unreasonably late, it was hard to get broken in. 
I remember one night in particular, after a de- 
lightful dinner at the hotel with some New York 
friends, we left the dining-room at eleven o'clock. 
As we passed through into the reception-room a 
fashionable young blood whom we knew, ap- 
proached one of our guests and said to him, 
"What are you going to do this evening?" I 
remarked upon the lateness of the hour and was* 



204 Below the Equator 

told by this young man that nobody there began 
his evening until after eleven at night ! My blank 
look must have been a surprise to him. 

Their Jockey Club, both in the city and on the 
outskirts where the races are held, is world-famed. 
Its waiting list is long, and its entrance fee of 
fifteen hundred dollars gives them so much money 
that they do not know how to use it. The city 
edifice is probably the finest club in the world. 
Among other attractions it possesses a famous 
statue of Diana. The club in the outskirts of the 
city has a spacious promenade in front of the seats, 
is filled with pretty tea tables where beautifully 
dressed women accompanied by their caballeros sit 
and enjoy their afternoon beverage. Everybody 
bets on the races. The youngest girl is just as 
excited as the oldest man. It is all very gay and 
informal and really is a wonderful place to see 
the best society of the city. The track is one of 
the finest in any country. The grand-stand is very 
attractive, constructed of stone, concrete, and tile. 

Near Palermo Park is the Ice Palace. It never 
freezes in South America, of course, but they make 
the ice electrically and the people enjoy the skating 
very much. We did not see the palace in opera- 
tion, as it is used only in winter, and we were 
there in April, their early fall. It must be inter- 
esting to see people wrapped in furs skating in 
a climate where it never freezes ! 



Buenos Aires 205 



The Cathedral of Buenos Aires is considered 
one of their most imposing buildings. The ornate 
pillars with Corinthian style of decoration run- 
ning across the whole of the front make a showy 
fagade. In this church is the tomb of San Mar- 
tin. All the pillars are electrically lighted and 
the effect is dazzling. 

In the heart of the city the Calle Florida is the 
fashionable promenade. It is but ten blocks long, 
has excellent shops, but no street cars. It contains 
a few fine residences which look very odd in the 
midst of the shopping district, but originally it was 
a beautiful residence street, and a few of the old- 
timers have refused to move away. They have 
walled in their stately homes so that the inte- 
rior of their balconies and roof gardens cannot be 
seen from the street. Thus they have insured their 
own privacy, but it was queer to see these cream- 
colored stone walls rising a full story from the 
street. 

Like the other cities, Buenos Aires has honored 
the memory of her heroes in the names of the 
streets and in artistic statuary. We enjoyed the 
museum, which contains many interesting things. 
The house of the president is known as the Pink 
House, just as our own is called the White House. 
It is a magnificent building, tastefully furnished, 
and containing every mode'rn comfort. The 
present president, however, does not occupy it. 



206 Below the Equator 

He is very modest in his tastes and uses it only 
for official business. His own residence is a very 
unassuming little home. 

The Zoological Gardens are wonderfully inter- 
esting. The house of the zebus fascinated us for 
quite a while. They have many and remarkable 
specimens of animals and some beautifully colored 
zebras. I never see one of the latter without 
thinking of the story of the little boy who was 
taken to the circus for the first time. He was 
greatly interested, of course, in everything that 
he saw, but at first glance at the zebra he turned 
to his mother and exclaimed enthusiastically, " O 
Mother, look at the mule in its bathing suit!" 
We saw many mules here in beautiful bathing 
suits. 

The visitor to Buenos Aires should not fail to 
take an excursion to El Tigre, the fashionable 
summer and boating resort. This pretty little 
place at the juncture of the Tigre and La Plate 
rivers is a joy to see. Many, small islands with 
trees, gardens, and picturesque houses are seen, 
and on the shore are pretty hotels where there is 
music and other attractions. The wealthy fashion- 
ables of Buenos Aires lounge about or dance in 
the evening. There is also the Mar del Plata, 
which is the Newport of South America. This is 
a more exclusive place, about two hundred and 
fifty miles from Buenos Aires. Here one finds a 



Buenos Aires 207 



veritable city of ten thousand or more inhabit- 
ants, with fine boulevards, splendid chalets, 
casino, theaters, golf courses, and fine bathing 
equipment. 



CHAPTER XXX 

ESTANCIAS 

WHEN we left home there was one spot 
which we were determined not to miss. No 
matter whatever else we had to forego, we meant 
to see Iguassu Falls. But alas for our plans ! Here 
in Buenos Aires, only a paltry thousand miles from 
this spot, we realized that we would have to cur- 
tail our trip. Should war be declared by our own 
country, which was now not a possibility but a 
probability, we should wish to return immediately, 
of course. Reluctantly, therefore, we abandoned 
this long-cherished wish until some more auspi- 
cious date. These falls are the greatest in the 
world. They are larger than Niagara, fifty feet 
higher, and contain much more water. In order 
to reach them one goes up the Parana River as 
far as possible, then finishes the journey on horse- 
back. It is a hard and tiresome trip, but all who 
have taken it assure one that it is well worth while. 
The falls lie partly in Brazil and partly in Argen- 
tina, in the midst of primeval tropical forest. The 
water leaps from tremendous heights, over masses 
of rock, and presents a gorgeous view. Showers 

208 



Estancias 209 



of spray form glorious rainbows, and the roar of 
the falls can be heard for miles. Our great 
Niagara suffers in comparison, as it lacks the 
magical beauty of the tropical surroundings. The 
Argentine government is fully alive to the value 
of this wonderful show place so near, and is plan- 
ning for the development here of a national park, 
knowing well that travelers from Europe and 
America will flock to see it just as soon as they 
can be made comfortable there. 

The women of Argentina are famous for their 
beauty, but they take on flesh at an early age. 
Still, they are certainly "easy to the eye," and the 
men no less so. We were filled with longing to 
linger in Buenos Aires, but a short ten days was 
all we could give. We spent one day on one of 
the famous bull and sheep farms where sixty prize 
bulls were shown us. We had the unique expe- 
rience of having a whole sheep roasted on a spit 
in the open, before the hot coals, and later served 
to us at luncheon. We felt that we were fortunate 
in receiving an invitation to visit this estancia. 
The owner possessed an almost countless herd of 
cattle and was accounted one of the most influen- 
tial and the wealthiest men in Argentina. It had 
been our good fortune to meet Serior Pereda out 
in the far western part of Canada, where he was 
traveling with his daughter and son, both grown, 
and a friend of the daughter. He spent a year in 



210 Below the Equator 

America, studying the large stock farms (from 
some of which he selected fine bulls) and taking 
notes on their methods, in case he desired any 
improvements when he returned home. We often 
heard through others of his splendid methods of 
caring for his prize cattle and sheep. We were 
shown much that was of interest to us on this 
estancla which he had chosen for his home during 
the summer. Sefior Pereda's wife was a 
woman of delightful personality and strength- 
ened the friendship we already felt for them. 
She was a skilled musician, spoke many lan- 
guages, and, with all her wealth, was simple and 
unaffected, as were also the other members of her 
family. 

We wandered over the beautiful gardens and 
fields and enjoyed the novelty, nowadays, of being 
driven in a four-in-hand by Senorita Pereda over 
their vast acres. Because hitherto, as the whole 
world seems to do, we had been flying from place 
to place in swift-speeding motor cars. This hand- 
some turn-out was her own possession, and spir- 
ited as the animals were (they had to be held by 
two men while they were standing), they were 
not at all ugly after she took the reins. We went 
at a lively gait across the country. Owing to the 
fact that this estancla is so near Buenos Aires, it 
is especially valuable. All land here is valuable, 
and although the cattle and sheep raising farms 







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Photo by Carter H. Harrison 

An Argentinian Estancia 




Photo by Carter H. Harrison 

Municipal Theater, Santos, Brazil 



Estancias 211 



are scattered over the country, this one, because 
of its proximity, was the richest. It gave us pleas- 
ure to know that our friends possessed it and that 
we could have the opportunity of spending a day 
with them. Our time was becoming limited, how- 
ever; so reluctantly we were off, with a promise 
to return on the homeward trip. 

One of the great sights of Buenos Aires is the 
docks, magnificent and well built. To us, one 
of the most agreeable experiences on the Atlantic 
side of South Amerira was the fact that a steamer 
could dock ! The horrible way of landing on the 
western coast had been a great trial, and in spite 
of our determination not to be nervous about it, 
we could not help feeling that the fletero in his 
tiny craft was by no means a safe way of landing 
passengers from an ocean vessel which lay a mile 
or more out at sea. Therefore these fine docks at 
Buenos Aires, Santos, and Rio de Janeiro were 
certainly welcome sights. 

The docks of Buenos Aires cost over fifty mil- 
lions, and the numerous basins of this vast dock 
system amaze and thrill the stranger. Row after 
row of massive masonry and cement wharves con- 
front him; behind them is spread a network of 
railway lines. In the background are public gar- 
dens filled with flowers and statuary to beautify 
the approach to the city. Everything to please the 
eye has been done to attract the stranger and to 



212 Below the Equator 

impress him with the fact he is about to enter a 
cleanly, progressive and very busy city. 

We experienced the usual red tape when we 
boarded the steamer to leave. Government offi- 
cers interviewed every passenger, and here we 
came face to face with an ironclad rule. No gold 
could be taken out of Argentina ! No matter how 
or where you got it, it had to be given up — of 
course, in exchange for their money. We had been 
warned on leaving home that there might be times 
in the interior when it would be advisable to have 
gold, so this was a moment of consternation to us. 
My husband had been carrying in a small bag 
three hundred dollars in good American gold, 
brought from Chicago and carefully hoarded 
against some possible contingency. He did not 
intend to give it up. But the law was strict and 
no exceptions are made. If one brings gold into 
Argentina it belongs to the country. But my hus- 
band comes of a fighting race, and he is not a 
coward. I don't know how the other passengers 
managed, nor do I know what he did ! But he did 
not give up his gold ! He carried it safely back 
to Chicago, untouched. 



CHAPTER XXXI 

MONTEVIDEO 

WE STEAMED away from Buenos Aires 
gay and happy, little dreaming that we 
should soon return with the knowledge of the war 
brought to our own doors. It is well for us that we 
know not what a day may bring forth. A night 
of sailing down the River Plate, which in spite of 
its beautiful nickname (the Silver River) is a 
muddy shallow stream, brought us to Montevideo, 
in Uruguay. This city has nearly four hundred 
thousand inhabitants, many charming homes, and 
is a great resort for the people of Buenos Aires. A 
wonderful bathing beach and an enormous hotel, 
magnificently equipped, are among the attractions. 
There are good stores, pretty plazas, and wide 
streets. 

As a place of residence it must be most attrac- 
tive. It has a fine old cathedral with very high 
towers, the interiors and decorations quite worth 
a visit. It has a splendid theater, and it is said 
that the people here are unusually fond of the 
drama and that over two thousand performances 
are given yearly. The university and museum are 

213 



214 Below the Equator 

very grand buildings, the former containing 
much that is of interest. The parks and watering 
places reveal that life in Montevideo is much in 
the open. The city boasts a fine hotel, the Parque, 
so named because it adjoins the park. It was 
erected in 1909, at a cost of nearly a million dol- 
lars, and is most luxurious in its appointments. 
Its salons, dining-room, and casino are exception- 
ally attractive, and it is a favorite resort of many 
of the fashionables of both Argentina and Uru- 
guay. The seashore in front has-many fine bathing 
houses on wheels. These are drawn by horses into 
the water so that the bathers need not be seen if 
they do not desire. We spent but one day in 
Montevideo, taking the steamer here for the five 
days' journey to Rio de Janeiro. 

We had taken a neutral ship, a Spanish one. 
Our country was not yet actually in the war. 
Later we certainly regretted the taking of this 
ship. It was not large and was crowded to the 
guards with two thousand steerage passengers 
and about three hundred first-class. After get- 
ting well out to sea we discovered that our life- 
boats would hold only about four hundred. In 
view of this discovery, the fact that the service 
was good and that they served us champagne at 
dinner without extra charge weighed very little. 
These could not possibly repay us for the anxiety 
of that voyage. A boat of this same line, the 



Montevideo 215 



Prince of the Asturias, had gone down off the coast 
of Brazil only a short time before with a similar 
crowd and nearly everybody on board was lost. 
Needless to say, we were unaware of all this when 
we took the last vacant first-class cabin. We had 
a rough trip. The boat pitched horribly, and many 
times while standing on the upper deck I got thor- 
oughly soaked by a passing wave. I am not the 
bravest person on earth at sea, anyway, and under 
these circumstances I confess that I was most 
unhappy all of the time. The steerage passengers, 
almost without exception, were ill, and the steamer 
was so constructed that they were visible all the 
time to the first-class passengers. I think neither 
of us will ever forget this voyage. 

As I have said before, however, we ourselves 
were good sailors. We never missed a meal or 
had a twinge of seasickness. The sight of several 
wrecked vessels off the coast of Brazil did not add 
any pleasure to the experience, as we could not but 
realize that in case of accident we should have 
little show. The steerage passengers were the men 
of whom I have already spoken who come annually 
from Italy to work in Argentina. They bring 
their entire families and stay six months, during 
which time they make enough money to take them 
back and live the other six months in Italy. They 
carry everything to and fro. On the way up to 
Rio a very much blondined French girl often came 



216 Below the Equator 

and sat by me. I did not care for her appearance, 
but everybody talks on shipboard. When she was 
not surrounded by a dozen or so of men, she 
amused herself by giving me much unasked-for 
information in regard to our fellow-travelers. 

At Santos, where we stopped for a few hours, 
we had an experience. Officers boarded the boat 
and arrested six of our table companions, three 
men and three women. They had sat with us since 
leaving Montevideo, and apparently were perfect 
strangers to each other. They never spoke or 
once, by any sign, conveyed the impression that 
they had ever seen each other before. There was 
not a little excitement, therefore, when they were 
confined to their cabins. Not a soul was permitted 
to speak to them; they were strictly guarded, and 
would be jailed as soon as we reached Rio. One 
was a very beautiful girl. The other women were 
attractive, too. But the girl was so innocent look- 
ing she would have been the last person on earth 
I should have suspected of anything wrong. The 
three men, however, looked their part. I should 
not have been surprised if they had scuttled our 
ship ! They were said to have been conspirators, 
engaged in a deep-laid plot which reached as far 
as the war of the United States. In any case, the 
sight of those six empty chairs at meal time fur- 
nished a topic of conversation during the rest of 
the voyage. We discussed them in every language, 



Montevideo 217 



except English ! When we reached Rio they were 
taken off the ship, but after that we heard nothing. 
One of the women said to me: "En su mo do 
de presentarse, se nota un no se de repugnante" 
or as we might say: " It's their way of doing, not 
themselves that is so intolerable." She added: 
" Que hombre tan insoportable, no tiene la menor 
idea de finura. Su lengua es el mas extravagante y 
ofensiva. Hay cierta baje en todo lo que el hace." 
Which means "When people become so unbear- 
able, there is nothing to do but to finish them. 
Their tongues were the most extravagant and 
offensive. That is certainly the cause of every- 
thing that has taken place." 



CHAPTER XXXII 

BRAZIL 

IF THE length and breadth of a country, and a 
variety of resources count for anything, then 
Brazil should be considered the greatest country 
of South America. It occupies about thirty-three 
per cent of the whole continent and was peopled 
by a single nation. There are many colonies of 
Germans, Italians, and Spaniards, but the Portu- 
guese are recognized as having been the pioneers 
of the country and much of the activity and prog- 
ress has been due to them. The resources of this 
country are enormous, inexhaustible. Though 
many of them are in operation, the country is so 
extensive that it may be said to be yet practically 
unopened. When one considers the tremendous 
wealth lying along the mighty rivers which flow 
through impenetrable forests out to the ocean — 
forests which no white man has yet entered and 
where the primitive Indian is just as he was when 
the Portuguese first landed on their shores, one 
may well regard this as an unexplored country. 

The early Portuguese navigators discovered 
Brazil. The celebrated Amerigo Vespucci was 

218 



Brazil 219 



one of them. He was enthusiastic over the loveli- 
ness he found here and called it an earthly para- 
dise. He talked of it so much that other explorers 
began to touch upon these shores. This made 
Portugal jealous and she started to protect her 
rights. In 1527 she established a garrison in 
her own interests. But the French and English 
attacked her and she was obliged to fight hard to 
retain what she had. However, in spite of her 
losses and many struggles, she managed to main- 
tain her right of discovery. The country was so 
vast that they made most of their settlements on 
the coast rather than the interior, which, even in 
those early days, they feared for its deadly dis- 
eases and savage natives. 

Brazil shared with the other countries the rav- 
ages of rapacious traders, who demanded and 
took from the poor savages all they could lay 
hands on. Right here let me say that it was the 
Jesuits who by their courage and ability checked 
this evil. They built churches, founded schools 
and taught the Indians agriculture. It was their 
zeal alone which made it possible for Brazil to 
continue to exist. The priests suffered persecu- 
tion, privation, and unheard-of torture. But they 
persisted in their work for the love of humanity. 
To them, more than to any other people, Brazil 
owes what she is today. 

For a while French rule threatened Brazil, and 



220 Below the Equator 

the Dutch also tried to get in. But both these 
suns rose and set. The doglike perseverance of 
the Portuguese won. Brazil's progress was not 
very swift, but it was sure. There were abundant 
signs of the spirit of improvement in the country 
which had established itself in the hearts of the 
Brazilians. Old Dom Pedro was one of their 
leaders, and, although he did things in a rather 
high-handed way, his efforts were evidently appre- 
ciated. He was rewarded by being made Em- 
peror, and was really a dashing monarch. But 
his ambition got him into trouble. By 1831 he 
had mixed things up to such an extent that he was 
forced to abdicate in favor of his son, Dom Pedro 
II. Even then things did not run smoothly. Civil 
wars broke out and distracted the country. The 
planters and slave owners made much trouble. 
The people were for doing away with the slave 
system. When the young Emperor was but fif- 
teen, the old Dom Pedro, recognizing the power 
of the forces arrayed against him, wrote a letter 
telling the people that though he had a heart full 
of affection for his country he had decided to leave 
it. He wished them great prosperity, but he felt 
that after half a century in which he had tried to 
discharge his duties faithfully it was better for 
him to go, so set out with his family to Europe. 
It was a rather pathetic end, but he did the only 
sensible thing left. That the people loved him 



Brazil 221 



is unquestionable, and many notable reminders of 
this famous leader are scattered throughout the 
country. 

To Dom Pedro 11 Brazil owes much. He was 
a courteous and kindly man in private and a digni- 
fied and patriotic one in public life. Yet these 
very characteristics finally led to his undoing. He 
did not like ostentation. His tastes were literary. 
He was fond of foreign travel and took great 
interest in all questions of the day. He had a 
profound admiration for the United States and 
often spoke with enthusiasm of us, regretting that 
his country was not yet able to grasp some of our 
great ideas. He loved to roam about his own 
country unattended, talking to any man he chanced 
to meet. In contrast to his manner was that of 
his daughter, the Princess Isabel. She was the 
reverse of her father, haughty, reserved in man- 
ner, and her cold demeanor in public made her 
very unpopular. Her husband was equally dis- 
liked. For many years the people tolerated them 
because of their love for the old Emperor. But, 
as the latter's influence lessened, their dislike of 
the Princess and her husband became an open 
secret. A political outbreak due to this cost the 
Emperor his throne. Dom Pedro made many 
visits to Europe, sometimes in the public interest, 
but often for the mere love of travel. His daugh- 
ter was regent in his absence. She had often 



222 Below the Equator 

differed from him in policy, and during these in- 
tervals would deliberately undo what he himself 
had done. Her ministers warned her that this 
was unwise, but she did not heed them, and in her 
decision to abolish slavery at once she forced the 
issue. Her father had always believed in it, but 
he thought a gradual abolishment the wiser plan. 
When the old Emperor returned to Rio in 1888 
he was given a glorious reception, which evidenced 
the personal love in which he was held. But a 
great deal of this ceremony was on the surface. 
The people were discontented and he soon saw 
that his interests had weakened. The powerful 
group of plantation proprietors made no conceal- 
ment of the way they felt. They interested cer- 
tain of the army officers and secretly set about to 
depose the Emperor. The latter was living in the 
palace at Petropolis. One evening some festiv- 
ities were going on when an escort entered and 
asked him to surrender his crown. A struggle 
followed and some blood was shed. It was at this 
time the Emperor realized that it was best for him 
to abdicate. 



CHAPTER XXXIII 

RIO DE JANERIO 

IN MY humble judgment, Rio de Janerio is the 
loveliest spot on earth. The city lies in a 
land-locked gulf, about eighteen miles long and 
from four to eleven miles wide. One enters 
through a channel in the ocean. On all sides are 
promontories containing forts. Bold and beauti- 
ful stony islands and high hills are passed. The 
city runs along the shore for several miles and the 
slopes behind are one mass of that exquisite 
tropical green of Brazil. The regular coast line 
shows the city level in front, but climbing the hill 
it slopes over the mountains. Rio is hemmed in 
by mountains and bays. We had seen Naples 
and Honolulu, and many of the other famous 
harbors of the world. But they all seem insig- 
nificent beside this one. The glory of the moun- 
tains rising from the sea and covered with brilliant 
green is startling. Here the cliffs seem a part of 
the city. 

Two strange formations stand out boldly, the 
Pan de Azucar (Sugar Loaf) , a gray cone of bare 
rock, severe in line and lying against the deep blue 

223 



224 Below the Equator 

of the sky, and Corcovado, higher still, standing 
over two thousand feet in the air. These two 
peaks catch the eye immediately. We were for- 
tunate in landing in a flood of sunshine from a sea 
of brilliant blue, making doubly interesting the 
view of the equally beautiful city we were ap- 
proaching. Except for these two bare mountains 
the others are all green. Once ashore we were be- 
wildered by the profusion of strange flowers — 
wonderful orchids growing in the streets. It is 
impossible for one to exaggerate the surroundings 
which nature has given to Rio. How a painter 
must revel in its strange beauty ! 

The palm we had become accustomed to in our 
travels, but here it seemed a different tree. Whole 
forests of them abound. We chose the Hotel 
Estrangeiros here for sentimental reasons. Our 
daughter had once been here as the guest of her 
room-mate at school, Miss Catherine Barker, now 
Mrs. Howard Spaulding, of Chicago. We saw 
all that Rio had to offer, from the botanical gar- 
dens to every pretty suburb. The gardens contain 
innumerable wonders of flora and have long been 
famous for the avenues of royal palms, each a 
hundred feet high, grown from one seed in the 
days when the King of Portugal had his court 
here. We were shown the first of the palms, 
planted in 1808. It is a giant tree and is now 
carefully protected by an iron fence. In addition 



Rio de Janeiro 225 

to these immense trees there are many interesting 
plants and curious fruits growing here. Large 
melons, queer, pear-shaped things, grow from the 
center of the trunk of a tree and look very odd. 
The coffee and tea trees, too, are large and inter- 
esting. Here we saw for the first time the giant 
bamboo, a monster tree, over a foot in diameter 
and different from the ordinary bamboo. There 
was a veritable wilderness of flowers, all in bril- 
liant colors — yellows, purples, and scarlets, and 
many flowering vines. All this beauty was bathed 
in a vaporous sort of sunshine, for there is here 
frequently a fine mist in the air. 

The palace formerly occupied by Dom Pedro II 
is now the Museum. It is called Boa Vista. 
Superb is the view from this building! What a 
site for a home ! Palm-covered mountains and 
green valleys, and beyond them — always the blue 
ocean ! The interior of the Museum is well worth 
seeing. We saw an enormous meteorite, the larg- 
est one we had ever seen, one side beautifully 
polished and as white as the purest silver. There 
were also specimens of the exquisite weaving of 
the Brazilian Indians. Some of their small ham- 
mocks are the most beautiful things one can 
imagine and their feather-work is unusually good. 
Their mummies, preserved fish, etc., are also ex- 
cellent specimens. 

Rio has been called the City of Paradise, and 



226 Below the Equator 

surrounded by its eternal hills, covered with lively- 
green, its concentrated splendor of light and 
shadows, its wild beauty of rich growing wilder- 
ness, its tropical greenery, it well deserves its 
name. Its shores and mountain slopes possess 
attractions of which one can never tire. The beau- 
tiful esplanade, Avenida Beira Mar, running out 
to Botogogo, on one side of the city, is one of 
their show places. The Avenida Rio Branco is 
claimed by the Brazilians to be the most beautiful 
street in the world. It contains every style of 
architecture, Italian, Moorish, Gothic, and it has 
mosaic sidewalks and beautiful shade trees. It is 
always filled with fast-running automobiles and 
fashionably dressed women. But to me the Beira 
Mar was more enchanting. This curves all around 
the beautiful bay and in sight of the blue waters 
of the ocean we could sit in a pretty park and look 
up at the splendid heights of Sugar Loaf and 
Corcovado. One sits enthralled in such places as 
this where Nature has been so generous. Along 
the Beira Mar were trees which had great bunches 
of yellow blooms which, except for the color, were 
like the wistaria. Others had a scarlet bloom, 
and some were white and pink. Orchids, be- 
gonias, and other flowers, the names of which I 
did not know, were at our very feet, and lovely 
villas and gardens dotted the bay. Mosses, ferns, 
trickling waters, narrow paths, and sudden 




Photo by Carter H. Harrison 

Botanical Gardens, Rio de Janeiro 



Rio de Janeiro 227 

glimpses of the glancing water of the bay were 
enchanting, and this was but one of the spots from 
which such views could be obtained. Not far from 
the hotel where we were staying was a splendid 
avenue of royal palms which led to the residence 
of the president. Indeed, almost every street in 
this beautiful city is worth wandering through, 
and from each of them one sees the everlasting 
background — the magnificent, tropical-green-cov- 
ered mountains. The Municipal Theater is very 
much like the Opera House in Paris. It has an 
enormous stage, perfectly equipped dressing- 
rooms, is beautifully decorated, and said to have 
only one rival in South America. This is the 
theater at Sao Paulo. 

The street Ouvidor, which, though it now bears 
another name, is still called by the old one, con- 
tains the best shops. Brazilian diamonds here are 
celebrated for their beauty. Nowhere in the world 
may one see finer specimens than these wonderful 
stones. None more beautiful are to be found on 
earth. Clear, glistening like the purest water, 
they are bright as stars. I knew perfectly well 
that my pocket-book did not admit of much in- 
dulgence along this line, also that I already had 
enough to satisfy the ordinary woman, but I was 
mad to purchase some. In Rio the diamond shops 
are truly wonderful. Not even Tiffany's in our 
own New York can outshine them. The Ouvidor 



228 Below the Equator 

is simply lined with these shops and the gems are 
most alluring. Neither are they as expensive as 
those of our own country. Still, the diamond is 
not a cheap stone anywhere and those I wished to 
purchase ran into the thousands. My usually 
indulgent husband looked black as thunder when 
I lingered about the shops in which I had decided 
to purchase. He felt that war time was not the 
time to indulge in such frivolity. I am ashamed 
to admit that I was hard to dissuade. I was simply 
obsessed on the subject of buying diamonds. 
However, at last I reluctantly listened to reason 
and many times since have congratulated myself. 
The fact that I was a reasonable woman and that 
my purse was not utterly depleted by this extrava- 
gance enabled me to contribute my quota to the 
war fund, which everyone should feel to be an 
absolute duty. 

The Brazilians are said to be an impetuous 
race, but they are certainly courteous and they 
inherit from their Latin ancestors the gift of fluent 
speech. They are devoted to all art, and espe- 
cially music. They consider the education of their 
young people incomplete unless some branch of 
the latter art has been mastered. 

The tremendous wealth of Brazil is well dis- 
played in Rio. All the politicians and governors 
of this vast territory gather here in the capital. 
They have majestic homes and live extrava- 



Rio de Janeiro 229 

gantly, but they strive to make their city a worthy 
setting for themselves. Their streets are the fin- 
est in the world, and when they desire a thing they 
spare no money in carrying out their plans. The 
natural beauty of the setting about them makes 
accomplishment easy. Fountains and arbors, 
rustic bridges and palms, clumps of bamboo and 
an infinite variety of ferns make landscape garden- 
ing a joy. Beautiful birds flying through the trees, 
the most gorgeously colored humming birds one 
ever saw, enormous butterflies of brilliant color, 
which rise so high in the air that they are some- 
times mistaken for birds, brilliant sunlight bathing 
everything in a golden light — these are only a 
few of the fascinations of this place. 

There is a lovely church here called the Cande- 
laria. It contains hundreds of candlesticks and 
is known as the richest church in South America. 
It stands on a little side street facing the bay. It 
has a beautiful ceiling of mosaic decorations, some 
excellent paintings by Brazilian artists, fine marble 
columns, wonderful old silver and solid tables. 

On the top of one of the hills there is a fine old 
Benedictine Monastery entered by a large gate- 
way at the bottom of a flight of stone steps. It 
was built in 1591 and was injured during the 
French invasion and by fire. But it has been well 
restored. It maintains a school for boys, and 
many distinguished men have received their edu- 



230 Below the Equator 

cation there. The order is wealthy and owns much 
valuable property in the city. From the hill-top we 
had a very beautiful view, embracing the many lit- 
tle islands dotting the ocean. 

One of the most interesting and conspicuous 
buildings is the Monroe Palace. It fronts the sea 
and is open on all sides. This was reproduced at 
the St. Louis Exposition and served as the Bra- 
zilian headquarters. Here, in 1906, the second 
Pan-American Congress was held. It is the most 
ornate of any of the buildings on the avenida and 
certainly one of the most attractive. One side 
faces the Passeio Publico, one of the oldest gar- 
dens of Rio (founded in 1783), and has vegeta- 
tion in it a hundred and thirty years old. It has a 
little aquarium containing thirty-five different 
species of fish — flying fish, feather fish, moon fish, 
sea horses, crabs, turtles, and many kinds of 
lobsters. 

I have already spoken of the many varieties of 
trees which grow in the streets. One particularly 
gorgeous variety is called the Flor de Guaresma. 
It literally covers the mountain sides and its royal 
purple is exquisite. There is also an especially 
brilliant tree resembling the Royal Ponciana, with 
a feathery scarlet bloom. The cactus here is from 
thirty to forty feet high and is large in propor- 
tion. The giant bamboos meet overhead and 
when trimmed form little houses for tea drinkers. 



Rio de Janeiro 231 

Under these trees the people sit lazily, or play 
cards, or dance. But why go on? One can never 
tell all that he sees here in the line of wonderful 
vegetation. 

In walking through Rio I often thought of an 
incident connected with our daughter's visit. 
When she was in South America I read in the 
newspapers of a revolution in Brazil. My hus- 
band was ill and could not be consulted. In a 
mother's frantic anxiety I unhesitatingly tele- 
graphed my fears to a friend in Washington, Hon. 
William J. Bryan, then Secretary of State. Never 
can I forget his kindness. He thoroughly investi- 
gated the report and soon allayed my fears by 
letting me know that the revolution was one thou- 
sand miles from Rio, the destination to which my 
daughter was headed. He added that the embassy 
had been notified to care for the little party on 
its arrival. To show this attention, however, it 
was necessary to locate the ship on which they 
were traveling, a bit of news I had failed to im- 
part. Therefore, as we learned later on, when 
we reached Rio ourselves, each incoming steamer 
from Buenos Aires was met and Miss Harrison 
was paged. Their consternation on hearing the 
name megaphoned may be imagined. The momen- 
tary embarrassment was soon forgotten in the 
courtesy and cordiality of the embassy. My hus- 
band, when he learned of the incident, congratu- 



232 Below the Equator 

lated me that I had not wired the President of the 
United States. 

Rio's streets are beautifully paved with asphalt 
and in this city the automobile is a dangerous 
thing. I have never seen so many nor have I ever 
seen such swift and reckless driving. One takes 
his life in his hands when he enters a public vehicle 
and many a time I walked when a street car was 
not available, rather than get into a public con- 
veyance. They run at break-neck speed. 

The ride out to Petropolis was one that we 
were anxious to take, as we knew it to be a beauti- 
ful one. The climb is swift and very high. Our 
train was broken into three sections, each having 
two engines. Ten per cent grade is this climb. 
The steepest grade in North America is two per 
cent. We had some wonderful scenery, of course, 
but it was not a perfect day for such a trip. There 
were many clouds, and, although we saw the ocean 
and the panorama between, the famous view was 
not so clear because of the fine mist. Still, we were 
fortunate to see it at all, as at this time of the 
year the fogs often shut it off altogether. 

In Petropolis the wealthy of Rio have their 
summer homes, as do all the foreign ambassa- 
dors. As has been said, it was here that Dom 
Pedro received the first intimation that his people 
were tired of him and wished him to abdicate. 
Right through the center of this pretty city runs 




Photo by Carter II. Harrison 

Avenida Central, Rio de Janeiro 






Photo by Carter H. Harrison 

Municipal Theater, Rio de Janeiro 



Rio de Janeiro 233 

a clear mountain stream, a canal. All the streets 
have beautiful avenues of palms and other trees. 
We motored to Cascatinha, where there are some 
algodon (cotton) mills. The winding ride up and 
around the mountains was indescribably beauti- 
ful— -my husband thought the prettiest we had 
ever seen. But I was not so sure. I remembered 
a similar one in Honolulu which had thrilled me, 
and it came back to me persistently on this day. 
I could not say that anything in the world could 
ever excel that. On both of them, however, I was 
equally terrified, for the terrible curves seemed 
blood-curdling on the edges of the precipices. Had 
the machine slipped a foot it would have been all 
over for us. To my mind it was a little too thrill- 
ing to be thoroughly enjoyable. Many times we 
could see four repetitions of the road zig-zagging 
below us. Still, the views of the valley lying be- 
tween the ranges was overpowering and in spite 
of my fears I was glad to be there. 

One has no doubt there that he is in the tropics. 
The heat is intense. As usual, we went into 
ecstasies over the vegetation. It is so unlike any- 
thing one sees elsewhere that it is difficult to re- 
strain one's enthusiasm. 

After we reached Petropolis we left the motor 
and walked about the streets. It was here that 
we had a funny experience. Before we started on 
our journey and every spare moment on shipboard 



234 Below the Equator 

we studied Spanish, and both had made consider- 
able progress. My husband had either more 
brains or more perseverance than I. I try to com- 
fort myself with the thought that he possesses 
only one of these qualities, but deep down in my 
heart I think he has both! At any rate he had 
been interviewed by reporters, had made all 
arrangements for baggage and hotels and had 
really made quite a clever showing in the language 
which we both had determined to master. We 
had occasionally proudly discussed the fact that 
we had never failed to make ourselves understood. 
But on this day in charming Petropolis we forgot 
Spanish would be of no use — we needed Portu- 
guese. We wandered about and succeeded in get- 
ting lost ! When we discovered the fact we had 
just time to get our train back to Rio. We pro- 
ceeded to ask in our very best Spanish, French, 
German, and English for the direction to the sta- 
tion. Quite a crowd gathered about us, interested, 
I presume, in the many languages we were making 
use of. But no one answered our questions. At 
last my husband said in despair, "Well, we shall 
lose our train, all we can do now is to wander 
about until we strike a motor or find the station 
by accident." 

I was not so easily discouraged, however.. I 
put my woman's wits to work. I smiled at him 
serenely and said, "Don't give up yet. I'll get 



Rio de Janeiro 235 

you the direction to that station in five seconds." 
And I did ! It was simple enough. I began run- 
ning back and forth, puffing and chou-chouing 
like an engine! My husband looked utterly dis- 
gusted. The crowd roared, but they pointed the 
way to the station and we caught our train ! 



CHAPTER XXXIV 

THE TIJUCA JUNGLE 

WE RETURNED to Rio that night and I 
had the experience of lying awake till dawn 
listening to what I thought was a wretched little 
dog across the street whining all night. In spite 
of the fact that I knew no Portuguese I managed 
next morning by signs and gesticulations to inter- 
view some of the servants of the palace across 
from our hotel. I hoped by crossing their palms 
to have the dog removed to another part of the 
house for the rest of the time I was to stay. What 
was my surprise to learn that the dog was a 
gatico — a tiny little cat. It seemed so diminu- 
tive, so attractive in appearance, I could hardly 
believe it had uttered such moans of despair as to 
disturb the whole neighborhood during the pre- 
vious night. 

Of course we climbed the Corcovado, as every 
one does. Steep as it is, we went up a cog road 
with no danger attached. The views are many 
and glorious. The rocky islands, the mountains 
rolling away like billows, and the blue ocean lay 
beneath us. The splendidly laid-out city stretched 

236 



The Tijuca Jungle 237 

like a large map was at our feet. All the buildings 
were recognizable and the great ditch was a silver 
ribbon across the town. This ditch was once a 
sluggish stream breeding miasma. Illness was 
on both sides, but a wise government opened it 
so that the waters from the ocean now sweep in, 
cleansing and purifying it, making a splendid 
canal. 

With some very charming New York friends, 
Mr. and Mrs. Boyd, we made the motor trip 
through the Tijuca jungle. We chose a fine day 
and shall ever look back upon this as one of the 
finest experiences we ever had. The contrast 
between this actual jungle and the towns and bays 
we had skirted was most noticeable. The road 
ran right through, under giant bamboo trees which 
laced above our heads. Curves, curves, curves ! 
Sometimes the curve was scarcely the length of 
the motor, but the view of mountains and valleys 
repaid us. This also was a favorite ride of Dom 
Pedro, although be never took it in its entirety 
as we did. The spot was marked where the 
Emperor came almost daily for a meal, and we 
sat at the Emperor's table and gloried in the view 
below. They have now cut through the jungle, 
and we often stopped, got out and wandered along 
where ferns and orchids grew riotously and 
streams of water fell through the rocks. All of 
these places where one may alight are carefully 



238 Below the Equator 

prepared. It would be dangerous to get off of 
the beaten track because of the snakes and deadly- 
insects which live in the jungle. Thousands of 
sweet-smelling white lilies perfume the air and 
enormous blue butterflies hover over them. End- 
less was the variety of ferns and flowering trees. 
There were peaks to be climbed where had the 
car swerved we should have been dashed to the 
depths below. In places on either side of the road 
the jungle was impenetrable. In the trees were 
jabbering monkeys and brilliantly colored birds. 

Higher and higher we ascended until the sum- 
mit was reached. Along the road we saw evi- 
dences that it was the favorite drive of the 
Emperor, for there were many indications of the 
manner in which he took his holidays there, lunch- 
ing, dining, enjoying the beauty which this ride 
through the jungle affords. 

Brazil is fertile and luxuriant in its production 
of life, not only plant life, which reveals every 
tropical growth, but of animal life as well. It is 
deplorable that so much of its insect life is deadly. 
The reptiles are, of course, death-dealing. In Sao 
Paulo we became intensely interested in a farm hos- 
pital for snakes at a suburb called Butantan. Every 
species of the hideous things is kept there enclosed 
in beautiful grounds and the government is doing a 
wonderful work in making serums as antidotes 
for their poisonous bites. A tiny snake called the 



The Tijuca Jungle 239 

coralline, only a few inches long, is more deadly 
than the cobra. Many of the beautiful insects, 
also, are so poisonous as to produce death. One 
is constantly warned to avoid bites of all kinds 
and to consult a physician instantly in case of a bite 
from even the most harmless looking creature. 

I was deeply interested in the gorgeous blue 
butterflies, of which I have spoken, and I saw 
many. Often I tried to catch one, but never suc- 
ceeded. One day, however, I found a dead one 
which I picked up and examined. I was told later 
that I should not have touched it — that the dead- 
liest thing in all Brazil is a grayish-brown butterfly 
which lives in the eucalpytus trees. Its sting means 
death in eight hours, and no one has ever been 
known to escape after having been poisoned by 
it. Think of it ! Yet I was unable to learn that 
any particular effort was being made to exterm- 
inate these. They seldom leave the trees on which 
they live. 

For days my husband had been hoping for a 
suitable morning on which to ascend Sugar Loaf. 
For the same number of days I had been praying 
that such a morning would not come ! The view 
from Corcovado was practically the same and 
there we went without the slightest danger. But 
Sugar Loaf was hazardous. It was over a thou- 
sand feet in the air. I had no desire to see that 
yawning chasm below from the little car suspended 



240 Below the Equator 

on a slender cable which swings out into space with 
nothing to stop it. Besides, I have a drop of 
Irish blood in my veins and I have always had to 
fight a bit of superstition in my make-up. For 
months — ever since we left home, in fact — we 
had been followed and haunted by the number 
thirteen. No matter where we went, that thirteen 
went with us. Rooms at the various hotels, trips 
on the boats, labels on our trunks, letters of credit 
— all were numbered thirteen, and the Spanish 
steamer from which we had just disembarked was 
no exception. It was the Leon Trece — the Leo 
Thirteenth ! 

Thus far, however, we had escaped. But I was 
convinced that Sugar Loaf was to be our Water- 
loo. Tremblingly I confided my fears to my 
husband and he generously offered to go alone. 
But to this I could not consent. In fact I told him 
that after mature deliberation I had decided that 
since both of our children had married and left us 
he was more necessary to me than ever. So I 
determined that wherever he went on this perilous 
trip I would accompany him. As the rainy season 
had set in, each morning had been cloudy and I was 
just comforting myself with the thought that the 
ascent might not be possible after all when, lo ! 
a morning dawned absolutely cloudless and he 
announced at once that he would try the Loaf 
that day. 



The Tijuca Jungle 241 

I had ceased to refer to my fears, although I 
still entertained them. I am not unlike many of 
my sex. I fight a good deal over the small things 
of life, but when the real emergencies come I find 
that I accept the inevitable quietly. So on this 
day I began dressing, saying nothing to disturb 
his pleasure. Just as I was pinning on my veil, 
however, he said, "Listen. I want to read you a 
beautiful thing," and without further preliminary 
he began to read that exquisite poem written by 
Alan Seeger, the young, American poet who fell 
not long ago at the battle of the Somme. It is 
called A Rendezvous with Death. Of course the 
reading cheered me greatly! But when I dis- 
covered that the paper from which he was reading 
was dated the thirteenth I thought I should faint. 
To my credit be it said that my face did not reveal 
my feelings, perhaps because I kept it carefully 
turned away from him until I had regained my 
composure. Honestly, I felt that my last hope 
was gone! Nevertheless I managed to express 
my admiration for the beautiful poem and my 
regret that so promising a young poet should have 
been lost to the world. 

But after all, Sugar Loaf was quite worth the 
trip. As we ascended the more than eleven hun- 
dred feet in the small car we could see miles and 
miles across to the blue ocean and the mountains 
and valleys below. The beaches of Rio lay be- 



242 Below the Equator 

neath us, each town and little village was distinct. 
Thrilling as it was, it was glorious. Had the cable 
broken — but enough! It did not break and I 
am glad I went. 



CHAPTER XXXV 

THE TREES OF BRAZIL 

THE wonderful forests of mahogany and 
rosewood in Brazil it was not possible, of 
course, for us to see. Brazil is so enormous and 
contains so much that one could easily spend many 
a year there in interesting travel. It occupies 
nearly half of South America and there are por- 
tions of it which are probably the least known of 
any country in the world. Many of these sections 
contain murderous and cannibalistic tribes. Her 
boundaries touch every nation in South America 
except Chile. In the United States we often think 
of Rio in Brazil and Buenos Aires in Argentina 
as being only a few hours apart. In reality they 
are six days apart on the ocean, and the wretched 
interior railroad connecting them is not even to be 
considered as a method of travel. The trains run 
only a few hours each day and not at all at night. 
The passengers must get off and spend the night 
in almost inconceivably uncomfortable inns and 
the time required to make the trip would probably 
be weeks. 

Often we wished that we could take the time 
243 



244 Below the Equator 

to study the trees here. The Flamboyant and the 
Gnaresma are perhaps the most glorious because 
of their brilliant purple and red color, but the 
Cattete is a superb thing. It is massive and grows 
in many groups like the banyan, except that the 
roots of the banyan fall from the branches into 
the ground. In the Cattete the roots seem to 
send the branches up into the trees, giving it a 
gnarled and most curious appearance. The flow- 
ering vines are numerous. The beautiful one 
which we had seen first in Peru, the Bellissima, is 
here in profusion. It is a little deeper in color 
here and is called the Corraline. The Azalea is a 
good-sized tree. The Cactus is about thirty feet 
high. The Avacado (alligator pear) is from 
forty to fifty feet in height and is beautiful when 
laden with its delicious green fruit. Probably 
the prettiest of the fruit trees, however, is the 
enormous Mango. Symmetrical, with a great 
trunk in the center and an almost perfect division 
of the foliage branching out from it, its fresh 
leaves red instead of green, it is a beautiful thing 
to see. The Papia is common here and has also 
a strange beauty. In addition to these, thousands 
of banana trees, and the breadfruit tree, giant 
bamboo, Araucaria pine, all sorts of fern trees, 
and a superb one, resembling the magnolia, fill the 
valleys. 

Among the many mountains overlooking Rio, 



The Trees of Brazil 245 

Cavea is prominent. From her great height she 
looks down on the smiling city and is particularly 
noticeable because of her flat top. I had the 
greatest desire to stand on that table-land and see 
the magnificent view that she was gazing down 
upon. The closest we came to her, however, was 
when we took the show ride of Rio out to the 
Tijuca forest. At one place on the way we looked 
down upon her uncovered crown and the great 
valleys lying between us — looking and wonder- 
ing whether any other view in the world could be 
more inspiring or more imposing. As we drove 
along the base of the mountain we had a unique 
experience. Our motor had to swerve because of 
a line of crabs which were crossing the road, going 
from one little bay to the other. I cannot re- 
member the distance between these two points, 
but it was certainly a strange sight to see these 
big crabs crossing the road. 

We returned by a different route and as we 
approached the junction of two roads the car was 
stopped while a discussion was entered into as to 
which of two roads we should choose for the re- 
turn. One of the roads was new — not quite fin- 
ished, in fact. It was said to be very beautiful, 
but in view of the fact that it was the rainy season 
and the road unfinished there was an element of 
danger in taking it. Just because of the danger 
everybody in that motor except myself chose that 



246 Below the Equator 

unfinished road! However, I had fully deter- 
mined at the beginning of the trip not to be a 
"kill-joy" on any occasion. I had lived through 
that perilous Sugar Loaf experience, but we were 
still pursued by the number thirteen. Our daily 
life seemed to consist in receiving telegrams con- 
taining thai: number, or bills of lading or various 
other things. But I acquiesced in this determina- 
tion and cast my vote for the ocean drive. 

The drive follows a sheer precipice along the 
shore. On one side the mountain rises with hardly 
two feet between it and the machine. There is 
only the same small space on the other side, and 
a thousand feet below one can see the swirling 
waters of the ocean. The road runs for miles 
and miles along the coast and motor cars are per- 
mitted to take it only in one direction, of course, 
as it would be impossible to pass. A portion of 
the way has a most suggestive name — one which 
is attractive to a nervous woman who occasionally 
takes the drive ! It is called the Coffin of Ships. 
Many ships have been dashed to pieces on the 
rocks here, above which the road passes. The 
beautiful harbor lies just beyond, serene and 
attractive, but the pounding waves dash up great 
mountains of spray, beat mercilessly against this 
rocky bed, and woe to the ship that loses her 
course in the maelstrom. Knowing all this and 
thoroughly alive to the fact that unless our motor 



The Trees of Brazil 247 

responded perfectly to the touch of the driver, so 
small an impediment as a little stone might throw 
us off our course and that a deviation of a couple 
of feet would hurl us over those awful banks, we 
sat in that machine and dared to believe that we 
were actually enjoying the beauties of that drive! 
Talk of the dangers of aviation! Or even sub- 
marines ! The thrills we got along that coast 
were enough to prepare us for any moment which 
might ever afterward come to us in life ! But 
nothing could have been more glorious than that 
ocean front, the high mountains on one side and 
the precipice on the other with the white foaming 
water so far below breaking against the rocks. 

The weather was very warm while we were in 
Rio. It must have been over ninety degrees, 
although we could not tell exactly as the ther- 
mometers are registered differently from ours. 
On the ocean, of course, it had been cold, and 
when I left the steamer I had worn a broadcloth 
traveling gown. I began to long for my trunk that 
I might don white summer clothing. But, alas! 
I did not get that much-desired trunk for nearly 
two days, though we had seen it taken off the 
steamer promptly. It went back and forth from 
steamer to dock for that length of time. We had 
arrived at Rio at a very interesting moment, for 
we were informed that they were in the midst of 
a revolution! The word thrilled us a bit. We 



248 Below the Equator 

imagined that the next few days would provide 
interesting data, out of which important history 
might be written, and we were already planning 
to give our version of this critical moment in the 
annals of Brazil! What was our disgust, there- 
fore, to learn that this awful " revolution" which 
was being discussed at such a lively rate was noth- 
ing but a strike of the stevedores ! 

No amount of diplomacy could break through 
the miserable red tape at the aduana — the cus- 
tomhouse. Nothing but patience availed. 
Woman-like, I wanted that white suit as I had 
never wanted anything in my life before. All my 
pleasure and sight-seeing in Rio was ruined by the 
fact that I did not have it. For the first and, let 
me add, the last time during my travels in South 
America my suit case did not contain this very 
useful change of clothing in a tropical climate. 
With a generosity of spirit and possibly with the 
wisdom born of many years of contact with the 
feminine persuasion, my husband tried every way 
in his power to gratify my desire. His struggle 
at the aduana, the money he spent for cabs and to 
cross the palms of influential concerges from the 
hotel would make an interesting volume all by 
itself. But in spite of all this I did not get my 
trunk until the third day when the "revolution" 
was over! 

Rio has the reputation of being very wicked and 



The Trees of Brazil 249 

very open in many of its vices. Frequently after 
dinner we would ride or walk in the avenida, 
watching the giddy crowd. It certainly was a 
crowd. We saw many of the unmistakable type 
of women, some of whom were young and very 
beautiful. It was a sad and depressing sight to 
me to see them ogling every man who passed. 
Rio flaunts her wickedness openly, claiming that 
it is the city's safeguard. They say that people 
become so accustomed to seeing these women that 
they soon cease to regard them as attractive. To 
a stranger who is on the streets at night, however, 
it is a drawback. It makes it impossible for a 
decent woman to appear without an escort. 

Not so many years ago Rio was a terribly 
unhealthy spot. It was infested with mosquitoes. 
In all our six weeks' stay, however, we saw not a 
mosquito, or fly, although not a window is 
screened. The city is now absolutely sanitary, cer- 
tainly the cleanest one I ever have seen. We 
considered Buenos Aires immaculate until we saw 
Rio. A Brazilian woman said to me one day, "I 
love Buenos Aires, but after living in Rio it always 
seems so dirty! " I was really amazed, but I had 
not then seen Rio. I found that she was right. 
The latter is a perfectly kept city. As a proof of 
their watchfulness they tell a story to the effect 
that if anyone sees a mosquito he sends in a tele- 
phone call and two officials are sent up at once. 



250 Below the Equator 

They never rest until they discover the pool and 
destroy the breeding place with gasoline. 

One never can do justice to the charms of Rio. 
Nature has done so much for her. She has fash- 
ioned out of the stern, rugged coast of Brazil the 
most picturesque bay in all the world. In this al- 
most perfect harbor of a hundred miles she has 
united mountains in jagged peaks and ridges with 
verdure-clad hills and blue ocean, making a trop- 
ical paradise. The entrance to the bay is two 
thousand feet wide. It is defended by splendid 
forts, one at the foot of Sugar Loaf and one on 
the opposite side. Thus the city is protected from 
any foreign foe. The whole bay is dotted with 
islands. Many of them have fine buildings and 
are charming little sea resorts. 

It was the beginning of the rainy season and 
sudden showers would fall with the sun shining 
brilliantly at the same time. In Honolulu they 
call this liquid sunshine — a good name for it. 
The clouds are light and the showers never last 
long. We were both enamored of the capital of 
Rio, Nictheroy, and spent two or three afternoons 
there. The water here forms a beautiful bay. 
The ocean is dotted with queer-shaped rocky 
islands and the mainland is a succession of jagged 
mountain peaks. Sugar Loaf, Corcovado and the 
other high points are visible from the bay, and a 
more attractive spot could scarcely be imagined. 



The Trees of Brazil 251 

Some day we hope to spend several months here. 
The summer homes are charming and the country 
rich in beautiful trees and flowers. 

After reaching Brazil my diary became a suc- 
cession of superlatives. One cannot write or talk 
without using them. No words can exaggerate 
the beauty of the land, the glory of the vegetation, 
the prolific growth of all things, the jungle of 
flowers, trees and vines — it is beyond the power 
of pen to describe. I can only reiterate that this 
country surpasses in beauty anything I have seen 
elsewhere in the world. We compared it with 
California, Switzerland, Italy, and Egypt, but all 
fell short. None equaled in magnificence the 
splendor of Brazil. 

Many times at beautiful Nictheroy we stood 
on the wide beach and watched the fishermen 
drawing in their nets, bringing in quantities of 
shining fish. It brought back memories of many 
winters at Redondo, California, where we had 
seen similar operations. Nictheroy is not so fash- 
ionable as Petropolis, but more beautiful. It is 
the prettiest seaport on the coast. It is only 
twenty minutes by ferry from Rio, and whenever 
we had an hour or two of leisure we usually went 
there. 



CHAPTER XXXVI 

TURNING HOMEWARD 

THE time had come for us to leave Rio and 
I assure you that we did so with great reluc- 
tance. Brazil had proved a revelation to us, for 
though we had always known of it as a country 
of vast resources we usually thought of it in con- 
nection with the Amazon river and the coffee in- 
dustry. Now we had been in Brazil for six weeks 
and we had seen neither- of these ! But we had 
been spell-bound with what we had seen. We 
knew that there were vast stretches of land which 
we could never visit which contained wealth im- 
possible to compute. Her great forests of the 
most valuable timber — the mahogany, rubber, 
sandalwood and rosewood trees, her immense* 
deposits of minerals, her plains and valleys sweep- 
ing away from the Amazon and holding wealth 
which would make millionaires of generations yet 
unborn. But we must leave it all. Our time was 
limited. 

The war news, meager as it was, reached us at 
stated intervals and became daily more and more 
depressing. The terrible state of affairs in Europe 

252 



Turning Homeward 253 

grew worse and worse. The possibility that we* 
ourselves should be forced to take a hand for the 
sake of humanity came closer each day. Our 
patient President had done all that he could to 
avoid entering into the quarrel. Friend and foe 
alike realized this. But we knew that each day 
brought nearer the dreaded declaration and that 
the homeward journey ought to be begun. We 
began to realize how far we were from home. 
The swiftest letter was six weeks old when it 
reached us. We had promised our loved ones at 
home that we would not return by way of the 
Atlantic and face the danger from submarines. 
This meant retracing our steps, making a straight 
journey from Rio to Chicago by way of the Pacific, 
and again crossing the Andes. This would take 
about thirty-five days at best. But in order to 
make a beginning we had to return from Rio to 
Buenos Aires by way of the Atlantic, a five days' 
trip. 

For days we studied which ship we had better 
take. The Spanish line was neutral. The Eng- 
lish one, which we knew we should find most 
comfortable, we had no desire to take as it, of 
course, was in the war. All ships were off their 
schedule. Those due on the first of the month 
came in about the fifteenth — often later. After 
our experience on the Leon Trece, where we were 
packed in like sardines, that line did not appeal to 



254 Below the Equator 

us as a desirable vehicle of ocean travel. In case 
of accident it would be awful. Every one of those 
men in the steerage carried a long knife, and little 
chance would one have in case of fire or other 
disaster. I shiver yet when I think of the danger 
we ran on that ship. So of the two evils we chose 
{he lesser. We decided that we would take the 
first English ship which came in. None was due 
for several days, so we decided to go to Sao 
Paulo, through the beautiful coffee country, while 
we waited, and thence on to Santos, where we 
could catch the steamer. 

It had rained steadily for three days, but we 
chose a fine day on which to take this trip. When 
we decided that we could not wait longer, but 
must go on the next day whether it rained or not, 
luck suddenly favored us. At five o'clock in the 
morning (our usual hour for taking trains) we 
departed. The morning had broken clear and 
beautiful. Sao Paulo is a day's ride from Rio. A 
part of the journey is through a hill country with 
immense woods and thick undergrowth of tropical 
vegetation. The earth wears a vivid green mantle 
as far as the eye can see. Trees of fantastic 
shapes, with twisted stems, reach up a hundred or 
more feet. Many palms of different varieties, 
dwarfed, bushy plants, banana forests, etc., are 
passed, heavy with their beautiful fruit. From 
out the heavy growths, orchids and other lovely 



Turning Homeward 255 

blossoms peep. The road revealed tunnels, val- 
leys and cultivated fields in quick succession. By 
eight o'clock the sun had come out gloriously. It 
was unbearably hot, but it was good to see the 
sun again. This railroad has been most carefully 
planned. It cost millions and it must have taken 
gigantic labor to put it through. A large part of 
it runs by a cable. The bamboo trees grow in 
great clusters of from four to ten stalks and were 
especially pretty here with their long feathery 
leaves bending gracefully from their high stalks 
like waving ostrich plumes. Avacado trees were 
here heavily laden. Lemon, lime and orange, 
breadfruit and mango trees, we passed them all 
until at last the great coffee fields of which we had 
heard so much were before us. They were a joy 
to see. In regular rows, thousands and thousands 
of them, the coffee fields are planted. At short 
intervals between them the banana trees grow. 
They claim that this heightens the production of 
the coffee. Whatever the reason, the large leaf 
of the banana tree spreads out protectingly like 
sentinels guarding the precious fields before them. 
The red berries of the coffee glisten in the sun 
like drops of blood and I can imagine no lovelier 
sight than these scarlet drops amid the green 
foliage. 

This part of Brazil is the most fertile and 
productive and under the best cultivation. On the 



256 Below the Equator 

train going up we had a most uncomfortable day 
coach, and every seat was occupied. In spite of 
the inconvenience of that twelve-hour ride, how- 
ever, we were alert and interested every moment, 
never closing our eyes lest we should lose some of 
the wonderful scenery. When we first took the 
train in the morning some of the clouds were still 
hanging to the peaks. It was pretty and curious 
to watch the mist raising her skirts, as it were, 
and scurrying away before the flood of brilliant 
sunshine which in this country makes day a blaz- 
ing jewel set between the dawn and the dusk. 

Our curiosity was aroused over some peculiar 
sand hills about from three to seven feet high. 
At first they were few and far between, but they 
increased until they numbered thousands. They 
looked like monolith ant hills, or large bake ovens. 
We were astonished to learn that they were really 
the former. We got close enough to peek into 
the interior. They were built in layers, in little 
separate stories as it were. In this country the 
ants are as wicked in their destruction as are the 
locusts. They clean things up until nothing is left 
in their path. These ants are not large, but they 
travel in armies, and when they start out they 
follow a straight line and take possession of every- 
thing in their way, eating up everything with which 
they come in contact, both in house and field. They 
come in a night and are gone in a day, and no one 



Turning Homeward 257 

knows whence they come and whither they go. 
There is nothing to do, it seems, but submit to the 
plague. There are certain places, Sao Paulo is 
one of them, where if one lays down a cracker 
or a lump of sugar for a moment it will be a mass 
of these ants in less time than it takes to tell it, 
although there may have been none about before 
the cracker was placed there, 

Now, I have a habit when I cannot sleep of 
nibbling a piece of dry bread or a cracker in the 
wee sma' hours of the night. I often reach out 
my hand and get it from some convenient spot 
where I have placed it near my bed. Fortunately 
for me I had been warned of these little insects 
and the only way in which I could safeguard my 
cracker was to suspend it by a cord from the 
electric light near my bed ! 

All along the road between Rio and the Sao 
Paulo are flourishing little towns. When we 
reached the latter place it was very warm. It is 
a queer thing that the real tropics are not nearly 
so warm as the semi-tropics. Panama and Rio, 
for instance, were the warmest places we were 
in during our journey. 



CHAPTER XXXVII 

SAO PAULO 

THE early history of Sao Paulo is very in- 
teresting. The legend is that it owes its 
prosperity to the friendly relations in the begin- 
ning of the sixteenth century between a Portuguese 
sailor, Joao Ramalho, and Tybirica, chief of the 
Guayanas, who dominated the country. The 
sailor courted the chief's daughter, succeeded in 
winning her love and married her. He became 
so friendly with the tribe that when an expedition 
came from Portugal the chief gave them a friendly 
reception. The Portuguese crown was so grateful 
that in return it gave the sailor a grant of land, 
which made him a rich man. From this marriage 
there sprang a race of people known as Mame- 
lucas. Later they called themselves Paulistas. 
These people had much to do with the develop- 
ment of Brazil. They grew in number, and they 
were adventurous and brave. They spread out in 
warlike expeditions and went as far as the borders 
of Bolivia. Their success in war brought many 
new Indians into the country. They opened it 
up, discovered diamonds and gold and built large 

258 



Sao Paulo 259 



villages. Their prisoners they always made slaves. 
To this slave-hunting the Jesuits, who were 
large in number, objected. Through their in- 
fluence the unfortunate condition of these slaves 
was greatly mitigated. The advance of the Paul- 
istas was very great. They were a virile people 
and showed themselves the most energetic on the 
continent. They were imbued with the spirit of 
freedom and their name deserves to be perpet- 
uated among the ardent spirits of the eighteenth 
century. 

We found Sao Paulo a region containing more 
white people than is usual in Brazil. And we were 
struck here, as elsewhere, with the fact that though 
settled and practically owned by Portugal, the 
people retained their love of the French language. 
Although everybody spoke Portuguese, yet we 
never failed to find that all, including the servants, 
also understood French. The city is very inter- 
esting, decidedly modern and up-to-date in its 
buildings and stores. Its Municipal Theater is 
said to be the finest in the world. It is certainly a 
model. It stands out conspicuously across from 
the viaduct in the center of the city. This theater 
is nicely arranged for the comfort and con- 
venience of the people. Each person has an easy 
armchair, which is placed at least four inches 
from the next one, and the rows run the entire 
width of the house. The chair right in front of 



260 Below the Equator 

you stands to the tack of the open space between 
those in front of it, thus giving each one a clear 
view of the stage. There are only side aisles. 
Gold and white decorations, brilliant red carpets 
on white marble stairs, give it quite a European 
air. It has handsome tessellated mosaic floors, 
Italian marble pillars, a splendid foyer, gold 
mirrors, gold furniture, a perfect ballroom, 
and fine mural paintings — quite a wonderful 
affair! 

From the Trianon one gets a good view of the 
city. The Trianon is a stately pavilion with white 
marble floor, and containing some little restau- 
rants where one can have afternoon tea and where 
the floor is splendid for dancing. It is just oppo- 
site one of the beautiful parks, is built on a high 
hill, and is much frequented by the fashionables 
from five o'clock on. Light suppers were served 
here, and it is a good place to see the elite of 
Sao Paulo. The beautiful residences are conspic- 
uous for the flowering vines, even the trees being 
covered with them. The rose-colored Bugin- 
villea is exquisite. It was hard to realize that this 
was the beginning of their winter. It was about 
like early fall at home, a little cooler, perhaps, but 
I was still wearing my thinnest waists and white 
dresses. There is really very little change in the 
climate here. Their seasons are the wet and the 
dry seasons. 



Sao Paulo 261 



As we were walking in Sao Paulo one day we 
were stopped by a quaint and beautiful procession. 
It was Holy Week, and in this Catholic country 
there were many evidences of the religious fervor 
of the people. Bishops and priests, and many 
hundreds of people carrying silken banners and 
marching to music, passed us by. In the center 
of this procession was carried a large statue of 
Christ falling beneath his cross; also one of the 
Blessed Virgin with a crown of lights about her 
head and gloriously bedecked with jewels and gor- 
geous robes. It looked like the staging of that 
beautiful opera, The Jewels of the Madonna; but 
here in the principal street of Sao Paulo it was 
a part of the worship of Palm Sunday. We were 
quite thrilled and impressed. My husband stood 
with uncovered head, as did all the rest of the men, 
until the revered statues had passed. Thousands 
of people lined the streets. 

Sao Paulo is full of pleasant surprises. Though 
its thoroughfares are narrow, the town reveals 
great business ability. The streets are crowded 
and contain fine shops. The car conductors wear 
pretty uniforms of gray with gold facings, while 
the policemen in black with red trimmings and 
carrying a white baton are very picturesque. Lot- 
tery ticket vendors, as is the case all over South 
America, infest the streets; but we had become 
so accustomed to this that it no longer annoyed us. 



262 Below the Equator 

Women go about bareheaded, wearing furs or thin 
white dresses, according to their own tastes. They 
fairly flood the streets. They seem to love the 
bright colors, for yellow, blue, green, and red are 
worn in shawls and used for handkerchiefs. In- 
deed, one may see the colors of the rainbow almost 
anywhere in South America. The men usually 
wear somber black, and so many of them are en 
luto (mourning) that they are noticeable because 
of the black straw hat. 

As the opera season had not yet opened, we 
did not have opportunity to see the women at any 
brilliant evening affair, but the women of Rio and 
Sao Paulo are celebrated for their elaborate dis- 
play in gowns and jewels. In the latter city we 
could not but observe the singing of the birds. 
It was very striking. We stayed at the Hotel 
Rotissirie, which maintained a splendid table, but, 
like most of the hotels in South America, left 
much to be desired in point of comfort in rooms 
and baths. In fact, the bath in most of these 
hotels is conspicuous for its absence. 

A very pretty excursion out from Sao Paulo is 
a ride to Cantareiria, where the water-works are 
built. A fine view is obtainable from the top of 
the hill. The railroad follows the course of a 
little river, winding along the green banks. The 
power-house is wonderfully constructed and the 
city is justly proud of this splendid piece of work. 



Sao Paulo 263 



A pretty park surrounds it and is well kept. We 
spent a couple of hours in it during the afternoon. 

Sao Paulo is the greatest coffee producing region 
in the world. Usually it is the Santos coffee we 
hear of, Santos being the name of the seaport 
from which it is shipped. Like the other tropical 
lands, Brazil has a great deal of her surface high 
above the sea level, and as Sao Paulo is between 
two high ranges there is great possibility of culti- 
vation. The coffee is, of course, the greatest of 
her industries. Other things grown are sugar, 
cotton, rice, tobacco, fruits, and cereals. The 
coffee is sent out to all parts of the world. We 
had seen the coffee grown in Honolulu and mar- 
veled at the output. But here is the real coffee 
country of the world. 

The coffee plant is a shrub, or small tree, from 
fourteen to eighteen feet high. It has a long, 
slender trunk, branching at the top, and when it 
is in bloom it is beautiful to behold. The blossoms 
are profuse and the perfume strong but delicate. 
At the coffee-picking time every available person 
on the plantation is called into service. All other 
work ceases for the time. It is a tremendous 
thing here, because Brazil produces three-fourths 
of the world's supply, and Sao Paulo furnishes 
one-half of Brazil's production. A Portuguese 
settler planted the first bush in Rio in 1760. From 
that bush what a wealth of production has come ! 



264 Below the Equator 

In 1903 the government forbade the planting of 
any more coffee trees, and the supply now exceeds 
the demand. All the work of picking the coffee 
must be done in one day — the gathering, wash- 
ing, and grating. This is why it takes so many 
laborers. 

Sao Paulo is in advance of all other cities on 
the continent in matters of education. The reli- 
gion is, of course, Roman Catholic. The city is 
up to the minute when it comes to matters of 
money. It is said that one can easily obtain twelve 
per cent here on a good mortgage loan. 

One morning as I returned from early mass I 
saw a crowd of six or seven people around one 
of the natives who stood in the center of the street. 
As I do not lack the chief attribute of my sex, I 
wandered over to see what was going on. With 
their usual politeness they moved aside to make 
room for the senorita, a title which is the height 
of their attempt to be polite to one who has passed 
the age of forty. This word senorita pleased me 
immensely when first I went to South America, 
because it carried the insinuation that I bore my 
years lightly. But at its constant repetition I 
became suspicious and found that with the suavity 
of the southern countries they were well aware of 
the weak point in women and readily conceded 
them in this title all the gallantry of the nation. 
However, I did not object to the greeting on this 



Sao Paulo 265 



morning. Leaning over a few children, I saw a 
funny little object on the ground. It was about 
ten inches long and at first glance looked like an 
enormous rat. On closer observation, however, I 
saw that it had a hard shell like a tortoise, a 
peaked head, and funny bright eyes. It was mov- 
ing along and evidently trying to get away. Every- 
body was talking Portuguese at a lively gait. 
"Que es esto?" I asked, which was nearest to 
Portuguese I could get. Amidst the flood of 
foreign language which now descended upon my 
head, I remembered to speak French, and in 
French they replied. I understood that I was 
looking at an armadillo. This little animal is 
considered by the natives the greatest luxury in 
the way of food, the most toothsome article to be 
had. A native will spend hours hunting one and 
separate himself from all the money he has to 
buy one. He cooks it in the shell, then digs it out 
and eats it. The man who owned this one looked 
with pride upon his possession, told me he would 
have it for almuerzo, and assured me that no 
money could buy it. Evidently he thought I had 
designs upon it, while all the time I was shivering 
at the thought of eating what looked to me like a 
terrible hard-shelled rat. 

Brazil's greatest asset is her rivers. Along 
their shores are valuable grounds, and it is amaz-' 
ing in these days to see how she is putting them 



266 Below the Equator 

into use. She has a fine system of river transpor- 
tation and it will not be long until her fertile acres 
along these banks will become even greater pro- 
ducers than they are now. Of course her greatest 
drawback is the vast jungle and the reptiles and 
poisonous insects which infest it. Then, too, much 
of her territory is low, hot, and unhealthy. But 
they point with pride to Santos — once the most 
unhealthy spot on the globe and now a model of 
sanitation. It will take time, of course, but even- 
tually they will clean up this wealth-producing 
country around the famous Amazon. When this 
is done and the rich soil watered by the river, and 
possessing the finest climate in the world, becomes 
a fertile plain for the raising of cattle and grain, 
there will be no limit to its possibilities. Our 
generation may not see it, but wise heads are 
already recognizing the great future which lies 
before Brazil. She is destined to feed the world. 
Once rid of the pests of her jungle and the dis- 
eases bred for lack of sanitation, Brazil will offer 
opportunities not to be found elsewhere in the 
world. She needs capital. No nation can work 
without it. But the adventurous spirit of the 
other nations will provide it, and in time she will 
conquer her death-dealing forces and take her 
place at the head of the list. 



CHAPTER XXXVIII 

THE SNAKE HOSPITAL 

ONE of our trips from Sao Paulo was a motor 
ride to Butantan. I have already men- 
tioned that here was a hospital and a farm for 
the study of the poison of snakes and deadly 
insects. We saw dead ones in alcohol (horrible 
things!) and numerous live ones in little villages 
built in the ground for them to live in. Curious 
oven-shaped mounds are their homes, and plateaus 
of grass and running water formed streets for 
them to wander in. It made me shiver to look at 
them, and of course their bites mean death. The 
institution itself, however, is wonderful. They 
have a laboratory attached where cultures and 
serums are studied out to counteract these venom- 
ous bites and also for cures for the deadly diseases 
which assail the country. By the elimination of 
the mosquito, the yellow fever which once raged 
in the cities has been practically exterminated, 
and they now hope to save as many lives by 
finding an antidote for the snake poison. Thou- 
sands of working people die each year from 
these bites. They told me at Sao Paulo that 

267 



268 Below the Equator 

twenty thousand died annually in Brazil from this 
cause. 

We left Sao Paulo at ten in the morning and 
had as pretty a ride down the ocean as one could 
wish. The drop of two or three thousand feet is 
made very quickly and gives beautiful views of 
the mountains. The cable track which brought us 
down is a double one, and this time we had com- 
fortable seats on a good train. Santos is pretty 
and quaint. Its houses are mostly a rich yellowish 
tone — a cream color, in fact. In Rio the soft 
colors are mixed with striking blues and pinks, 
and many times the contrast is startling. But here 
in Santos the soft colors prevail and are most 
agreeable to the eye of the traveler from a north- 
ern clime who is not accustomed to the brilliant 
sunshine of South America. 

One of the queer things in regard to these 
southern houses is the decoration of the outside. 
Ever since we left New Orleans we found in 
different cities pictures painted on the exterior of 
the houses, a custom which prevails in Cuba also. 
These scenes vary. Some are agricultural and 
some are interiors, and often they cover the entire 
front or side of a house. Often the paintings are 
very good, but it struck us as a queer taste. I 
could never understand, either, just how they kept 
those paintings in good condition, especially dur-i 
ing the rainy season, and finally came to the con- 




Photo by E. M. Newman 

Municipal Theater, Sao Paulo, Brazil 



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Photo by E. M. Newman 

Snake Farm Near Sao Paulo, Brazil 



The Snake Hospital 269 

elusion that these mural decorations must surely 
have to be renewed each dry season. 

The people here are very suave. The men 
always bow politely to strangers, and if they 
recognize that a woman is a stranger they are 
most deferential. Coming as we did from cold, 
bustling, business-like Chicago, these pretty man- 
ners of the people in the streets struck us forcibly. 
I cannot say honestly that I should like to copy 
all the customs of South America, but there are 
many upon which we could certainly improve. In 
cordiality and politeness they certainly lead us. 

Before starting out to explore the city we began 
making inquiries for the home steamers. Daily 
the war news made us more anxious. Our hearts 
were heavy. With two sons to enlist, we began 
to feel most desirous of returning to our own 
country. We were to wait at Santos until we could 
get a vessel, and by this time we had made up our 
minds to take anything which came in sight. We 
heard that there was a French liner in the harbor. 
She was a freighter, but was willing to take two 
or three first-class passengers. We went aboard 
and looked her over. She was black from stem 
to stern, not at all clean, but we decided that if 
she sailed first we would go aboard her. She 
gave us little hope of leaving for eight or ten days, 
so after settling ourselves in the hotel we set about 
to see the city. We found it a charming place. 



270 Below the Equator 

The harbor is picturesque, the mountains covered 
with tropical growth, and there are many hand- 
some homes. One especially artistic one had a 
single row of magnificent palms straight across 
the front yard. I cannot express how beautiful it 
was. These trees grew to a height of eighty feet 
without branching. Their enormous trunks must 
have been three or four feet in diameter, and in 
color resembled an elephant's hide — a medium 
shade of gray and soft as velvet. The top is 
crowned with royal green ostrich plumes — they 
resemble these light feathers more than anything 
else of which I can think. 

The broad streets of Santos are clean, and the 
plazas filled with flowers, banyan, bamboo, and 
fern trees, which together with pools of water 
and quaint bridges, made them lovely and charm- 
ing places in which to sit and watch the people. 
We motored to one of the beaches — and a won- 
derful beach it was. Miles and miles of hard 
white sand with the surf fairly touching the 
wheels of the car ! Several fine hotels are built 
along this drive, and pretty summer homes. Many 
islands dot the harbor and are profuse with trop- 
ical growth. One of these we named " The Island 
of the Holy Cross " because a beautiful fern tree 
of enormous size stood high and lofty in the form 
of a cross upon it. This splendid green crucifix on 
the pinnacle of the mountain was a curious and 



The Snake Hospital 271 

novel sight. I was told afterward that this 
particular island was infested with the deadliest 
of snakes. I try to forget this piece of informa- 
tion when I remember it, for it will always be to 
me "The Island of the Holy Cross." 

This was a drive we shall long remember. We 
returned to the Sportsmen's Hotel for luncheon — 
a delightful one it proved' to be. The most deli- 
cious coffee in the world is, of course, to be had 
in Brazil. We knew that we should be spoiled 
for any other as long as we lived. It is black as 
ink, and simply delicious. Of course it is always 
the cafe au lait. Since leaving the Isthmus, since 
leaving New Orleans, in fact, we had not seen 
any cream except in Buenos Aires. Many reasons 
are given for this. One is that they claim it is 
impossible to keep it in this climate. But what- 
ever the reason, we could not buy it except in tin 
cans brought all the way from New York or 
Philadelphia, and it was exorbitant in price — 
practically out of the reach of an ordinary pocket- 
book. I suspected that the real reason one could 
not buy cream was that they themselves do not 
care for it, but like the boiled milk better. We 
soon became accustomed to it ourselves and ended 
by being very fond of it. 

Another charming sea resort was called Gua- 
ruga. It has a large hotel which is said to be the 
best managed one in Brazil — run by the owners 



272 Below the Equator 

of the Ritz-Carlton. We had observed it as we 
went up to Rio, picturesquely situated near some 
rock islands where a magnificent spray washes 
mountain high. We watched it from the ship and 
determined to return there and stay a week. But 
we were now too anxious to get home and did 
not wish to be more than a day's journey away 
from Santos, in case a steamer of some kind should 
come into port. The morning papers stated that 
President Wilson had asked for half a million 
men, and we felt that war was inevitable. 

One is told never to smell the flowers in Peru, 
and in Brazil never to touch the insects, especially 
the butterfly. The deadliest germs often linger 
there. The most innocent looking bug is danger- 
ous. One small one has a sting so terrible that 
the body of a negro is said to turn white if stung 
by one. Is all this beauty which we seek to possess 
only veneer? But there is hope for Brazil. 
Already by watchful care and courageous work 
they have made portions of the country as healthy 
as splendid old North America. 

Though it was their fall, the temperature was 
eighty-eight. In spite of the heat we found the 
beach cool and delightful. The well-built and spa- 
cious hotel surrounded by large gardens was 
enticing, but we spent most of our time on the 
beach watching the bathers. This beach was by 
far the most imposing of any that we saw in South 



The Snake Hospital 273 

America, and as I have already said, the cuisine 
of the hotel is unexcelled. But these comforts 
only add to the natural beauty of the place. Noth- 
ing could be more picturesque than this bay filled 
with beautiful rocky islands washed by the ocean 
spray. There are many little inland spots, safe 
bathing pools between the islands and the shore 
which make the life line unnecessary. The large 
open space has the latter, of course, but most of 
the bathers choose the narrow straits lying nearer 
the shore. We climbed out to one of these and 
watched the children, from three to six, and old 
men and women enjoying the sport. The tide was 
coming in. Twice we had to move from our point 
of vantage, but each time we found another where 
we could still enjoy the sight. 

It was Holy Week, and the fifth of April. As 
a good Catholic I made my three visits to the 
church (a religious custom among us) and went 
to Holy Communion. My husband does not share 
my religious beliefs, but he loves the ceremony of 
the church and accompanied me to the early morn- 
ing mass. We both had a feeling of depression 
of which we could not rid ourselves. In spite of 
the joyous celebration which is always particu- 
larly enthusiastic in these southern countries, we 
could not rejoice. Amid the decoration of flowers 
and the joy of the school children we felt a calam- 
ity of some kind was hanging over us, and when 



274 Below the Equator 

we returned home the presentiment became a fact. 
Our country had declared war. God help us all ! 
Holy Thursday — of all the days of the year, the 
day which Christians the world over hold sacred, 
the day on which our Savior on the eve of His 
great sacrifice sat with His apostles and gave us 
the divine sacrament of His love and devotion! 
That this day should have been chosen by the 
Christian world to feed millions more to the 
deadly monster, War. Still, we realized that there 
was no other course. Our country must uphold 
the honor of her flag. She could not act other- 
wise. 1 

In leaving Brazil we faced the fact that although 
they were glad to receive us, accepting us with 
open arms, as it were, and asking no questions, 
they would not permit us to depart without paying 
a fine. I think it was ten dollars apiece that each 
passenger had to contribute before leaving the 
country. I suppose this tax was all right, but it 
did seem funny. 



1 The report on the 5th of April that war was declared was 
a day too soon. It really was declared the next day, however, 
the 6th. 



CHAPTER XXXIX 

A MODEL PENITENTIARY 

SANTOS is really an island. We did not know 
this at first. Half the year she is a peninsula 
because a long sandbar connects her with the main- 
land, but the other half of the year the ocean 
washes clear across, making her a complete island. 
Her market is the most interesting of any that 
we saw in South America. Everything of value 
seems gathered in this one particular spot. It is 
a fine place not only to purchase but to watch the 
people. They have here a splendid military 
academy and naval school, but the institution of 
which they are proudest is the penitentiary. This 
is a model both as regards hygiene and tenants. 
It is situated near the river, has splendid courts 
and interiors, is well ventilated, and has neat 
kitchens and laundries. Every room is well lighted. 
The cells are thirteen feet long and eighteen feet 
wide, containing nice folding beds, porcelain bowl, 
and comfortable seats, with bookshelves and a 
long bench. All the cells open into a wide corri- 
dor twenty feet wide. There are iron and marble 
staircases and elevators. Best of all, they have 

275 



276 Below the Equator 

fifty baths at the service of the prisoners, who 
may have either warm or cold sea water. Their 
workshops provide all sorts of occupations for the 
men. This prison is certainly a model for all 
cities to copy. 

I have talked much about Brazil, but when I 
remember that she covers more ground than the 
whole United States and is fifteen times as large 
as France, I realize that, after all, I had said 
little, because I have had only a glimpse of her. 
On the fifth of April, after our desajuno, at about 
eight o'clock, we heard that an English ship had 
come into port. Within an hour we had boarded 
her. She was the Vestris, Lamport & Holt Line. 
A more beautiful and comfortable ship could not 
be found. She had seventeen thousand tons dis- 
placement and sailed early in the morning. To 
Mr. Herbert Hampshire, the manager of this line 
in Santos, we were indebted for many courtesies. 
He and his charming wife and child accompanied 
us to Buenos Aires. We had a fine cabin and were 
most comfortable, although we could not help a 
feeling of uneasiness. We were now at war with 
Germany ourselves, and we were aware that a 
German raider in these waters had just captured 
and sunk her fourteenth ship. This news we 
learned at Santos. The raider always approached 
the ship she wished to sink in the guise of a friend. 
She carried a friendly or neutral flag. In this 



A Model Penitentiary 277 

subtle way she would come close to her intended 
victim, and when within the proper distance would 
suddenly drop her false front and disclose a row 
of perfectly equipped guns. 

The captain of the raider was a German count, 
of most agreeable personality, with gentlemanly 
instincts, and certainly with a keen sense of his 
responsibilities. His method of dealing with these 
boats which it was his duty to sink contained an 
element of humor. He carefully took the crew 
and the people on his own boat, treated them cour- 
teously and commiserating the officers who were 
obliged to suffer the loss of their ship. He said 
to one of them, " I know exactly how you feel, 
but this is war. I have no choice. The work is 
as distasteful to me as it is to you, but I am a 
soldier and must obey my orders. I shall not 
inflict upon you and your fellow-officers the cruel 
sight of the sinking of your ship." He would then 
send them below, give them a splendid dinner at 
which champagne was provided, and when they 
returned there would be no signs of their wrecked 
vessel! She had already found her grave in the 
cold, clear depths of the Atlantic. He had done 
this to fourteen vessels. When his own boat be- 
came overcrowded with his enforced guests, he 
stopped a French steamer, put all his passengers 
or prisoners aboard, commanded it to turn back 
on the voyage and take them to Rio de Janeiro. 



278 Below the Equator 

Before seeing them off he disabled one of the 
engines, cut the masts in two so that they could 
not carry any sail, thus putting the boat in such 
condition that she must travel slowly to her des- 
tination. This gave him time and opportunity to 
escape with his villainous little craft to do another 
trick of the same kind. 

As all this occurred while we were in Santos, 
the excitement ran high. It was under these cheer- 
ful conditions that we started homeward. We had 
five days on the Atlantic to reach Buenos Aires, 
from which point we were to begin our real jour- 
ney toward the United States. In spite of the 
courteous behavior of that German count, we had 
no desire to meet him face to face. The Vestris 
was a most important ship and the eyes of Ger- 
many had been upon her for a long time. Her 
destination was, Buenos Aires, where she would 
remain for two weeks, taking on a cargo of meat 
which was to go back to England. This meat 
alone would be worth five million dollars and 
would be enough to feed the entire English army 
for four days. She was a prize well worth obtain- 
ing. She had had an exciting time crossing the 
Atlantic, and many thrilling tales were told us of 
that experience. Two torpedoes had just missed 
her. She had gone across to the coast of Africa 
and from there had zig-zagged over the ocean in 
order to reach Buenos Aires. Germany was lying 



A Model Penitentiary 279 

in wait to catch her on the return trip and had 
once sent her a wireless saying, "We shall get 
you before you are far on your way!" The 
audacity of it! And pleasant news for us who 
were on board and who knew of the success this 
raider had already met with ! On her way down, 
the Vestris had touched at New York, but every 
passenger from that port had canceled his passage, 
so that on this splendid vessel capable of carrying 
hundreds safely there were just twelve passengers. 1 
Captain Davies was a man of great force. He 
was absolutely fearless, but was, of course, taking 
no chances. He did much to cheer our spirits, 
for I can testify that that dozen passengers were 
every one nervous. The boat was the usual dark 
gray in color and at night was shrouded in dark- 
ness to add to our gloom. We were swathed in 
heavy canvas nightly for fear of an accidental 
escape of a ray of light. Placed everywhere was 
the notice, "The captain relies on every passenger 
to pull up the shutters when the lights are on." 



1 Among the passengers was Captain Carlos Daireaux who 
had been naval attache in Washington and was returning to his 
home to take charge of one of Argentina's two dreadnaughts. 
He had been given the captaincy of the Rivadaria, the largest 
warship afloat. Captain Daireaux' charming wife and children 
accompanied him. 

Argentina sent him as its representative to the United States, 
where he has been received and honored. Quite recently in New 
York we had the pleasure of going aboard the Kivadana with 
a party of friends and enjoyed renewing our acquaintance with 
the Commandant aboard the wonderful warship. 



280 Below the Equator 

Only one small light was permitted in each cabin. 

Every blind was drawn and fastened before the 
lights were turned on, and the decks were shrouded 
with the canvas before sunset. Each passenger 
was put under oath not to break the rule, yet even 
this was not considered sufficient. Guards were 
stationed to see that no one became careless. We 
had no head-light or tail-light, and I could not 
help wondering which was the greater danger — 
to meet the raider or to encounter a friendly vessel 
traveling like ourselves at full speed in the pitch 
darkness. The steward instructed us all carefully 
as to how to use the life belts, and then remarked 
as he moved away from me, u Madame, I will 
leave it here by your bed so that it will be handy ! " 

The captain told us that in case of attack he 
had brought a powder which would envelope us 
in smoke and conceal us from the enemy, thus 
giving us a chance to escape. With all these pleas- 
ant suggestions, we began to realize what war 
meant; this was real danger. Every now and 
then along the coast we were shown a wreck. 
Many a splendid ship had here met her fate, and 
though the days at sea were particularly bright 
we were not a very gay or cheerful party. 

Professor Jordan of the University of Chicago 
was one of the passengers. He was going from 
New York to Buenos Aires to make some bac- 
teriological tests for a large Chicago firm. We 



A Model Penitentiary 281 

enjoyed talking with him very much, and in his 
presence forgot our own gloomy thoughts. One 
beautiful morning as we were steaming quietly 
along a woman sprang up and screamed wildly, 
"Oh! Look at that submarine ! " 

The excitement which ensued was indescribable. 
It was Sunday morning and most of the passen- 
gers were at church in the salon. Professor 
Jordan and I sprang to our feet and with the 
few who were on deck we could see the object 
plainly. It might easily have been taken for the 
periscope of a submarine. Passengers forgot their 
religion for the moment, and after getting over 
my first horror, I rushed to find my husband. But 
a sailor who was watching the object quieted the 
excitement as quickly as it had been made. " It's 
only a whale," he said. This shows, however, to 
what a nervous tension we all were keyed. I think 
that most of us felt like throwing the woman over- 
board to feed the whale. 

The night which followed was glorious. I 
watched the moon rise, full and beautiful, at about 
six o'clock. Our three Crosses were unusually 
luminous, and in spite of the moonlight the stars 
were wonderfully brilliant. The next morning we 
had another excitement. We observed a vessel 
coming a little closer than the captain liked. He 
kept his glasses bent upon her constantly and was 
careful to keep within the three-mile limit. No 



282 Below the Equator 

vessel can be attacked off the coast of a neutral 
nation if she is running within three miles of 
shore. I questioned the captain about our course. 
There was an element of danger in lying too close 
to the shore, also. Too many rocks ! Therefore 
we surmised that he was anxious about the vessel. 
His reply to my question was, " I think the boat 
is all right, but I never saw her like in these 
waters before, and I am taking no chances." She 
proved to be the French boat which we had exam- 
ined in Santos with a view to taking it in case none 
other came in in time. 

In spite of our fears and premonitions, in which 
the number thirteen had played so conspicuous a 
part, we reached Montevideo, Uruguay, in safety. 
What a grand city this is ! 

Again we had a long day in Montevideo 
and enjoyed it to the full, driving about the 
city, wandering through its handsome plazas and 
public buildings, and going out to the wonderfully 
attractive Parque Hotel. There we had a nice 
hour watching the bathers and enjoying the bril- 
liant Uruguayan sunshine. 

We reached Buenos Aires in safety. Again we 
crossed the Andes (for the sixth time), caught 
our ship at Valparaiso, repeated our lazy journey 
up the Pacific, and finally reached the Isthmus in 
safety. 

Nothing of importance occurred on the home- 



A Model Penitentiary 283 

ward voyage except that the French captain told 
us that he was making the thirteenth voyage of his 
boat ! Another link in our chain of thirteen ! We 
did have one experience, however, which saddened 
us and is worth relating. At Payta the captain 
had a wireless asking him to leave his course and 
look for a vessel which was fifteen days overdue. 
In his chart-room he showed us just where this 
vessel was when last heard from. She had sent a 
wireless that her engine was disabled, that she 
was helpless and needed assistance badly. Num- 
berless messages had been sent out in the attempt 
to reach her, but there had been not a word in 
reply. There were so many currents and such 
strong ones here that a vessel in the straits in 
which she evidently was, would surely be in 
peril. Unless she should be driven toward the 
coast — a hundred miles away — she would drift 
out to sea in the Pacific, which here is about at 
its widest portion, the first land being the Aleutian 
Islands, thousands of miles away. 

We went hundreds of miles out of our course 
searching for this unfortunate vessel, sending out 
Marconis all the time, losing two days' time, and 
took a chance of missing our steamer in conse- 
quence and being detained ten days while we 
waited for another. But we did not complain. 
We looked upon this excursion as a duty. Finally, 
however, the captain turned in his course. He had 



284 Below the Equator 

heard nothing, nor have they heard anything since. 
Of the fate of that lost ship no man knows. 

At the Isthmus we certainly saw signs of war. 
Usually the ships come within half or a quarter 
of a mile of the entrance. Now they are stopped 
three miles out at sea. The army officers took 
charge of us, examining everything and everybody 
scrupulously. A charming young Peruvian with 
the German name of Schultz had been most agree- 
able to us. He was going to New Orleans to visit 
his father's family. He was taken in charge at 
once and we did not see him again. Whether he 
was sent back to South America or permitted to 
proceed under guard across the Isthmus, we never 
knew. Of course no German would be permitted 
to pass through the Canal. All the Peruvian ships 
carried German, French, Swedish, or English cap- 
tains. The insurance companies in England will 
not insure a boat captained by a Peruvian. Many 
of our officers on the Montaro were Germans — 
fine, splendid young fellows who had been in the 
service for years. Now they were thrown out of 
employment and not permitted to enter the Canal. 
We were not unprepared, therefore, to hear of 
the rigorous treatment accorded our young Peru- 
vian acquaintance. But war is war, and Uncle Sam 
has his eye on our national safety. Passports were 
required of all of us. The examination of bag- 
gage was imperative. Surely if there was a spot 



A Model Penitentiary 285 

on earth where one feels proud of being an Amer- 
ican, it is the Isthmus of Panama. Controlled by 
the army, its system of discipline is perfect. Nets 
were spread, mines laid, and everything already 
prepared to defend this important key to our 
country's commerce. 

We barely made connection here, and as we 
drew off the dock I called my husband's attention 
to the number of the dock we were leaving — 
thirteen ! Was it a good omen, after all? It had 
certainly followed us like a friend throughout all 
our journey, and we were beginning to believe that 
it was not an unlucky number. Although I did 
not know it then, it began the very day we left 
Chicago. We discovered after we got home that 
the bag of gold which we had taken and which 
my husband had guarded so carefully all during 
the trip was by our bank in Chicago stamped 
number thirteen ! We then and there decided that 
we should in future hold to it and swear our 
preference for it in the face of any other. 

Many of the wives of the officers stationed at 
the Isthmus came on the boat with us. Their 
husbands were all ordered off to war, so, gathering 
hastily their Lares and Penates, they joined us. 
They told us many interesting events which had 
occurred after war was declared. At the Isthmus 
and at almost every little port on the Pacific we 
had seen interned German vessels. Germany cer- 



286 Below the Equator 

tainly had an enormous commercial record in this 
part of the world. The interned German officers 
and men numbered thousands. At the Isthmus 
a great many of their families had joined them, 
and there they lived quietly and happily until the 
war was declared. The question came up now — 
what was to be done with them ? After much con- 
sultation, they were put on a small but pretty 
island which contained a cozy little hotel. 
Here they were apparently contented, but the 
whole Isthmus was one afternoon thrown into 
consternation. A narrow strip of water lay be- 
tween the island and the mainland, and across it 
the music of the Victor machines could be plainly 
heard. What was the horror of the Americans 
to hear "Hoch der Kaiser!" and "Wacht am 
Rhein" come floating over to them! The Ger- 
mans were loyal and devoted to their country. 
But it did not seem just right or dignified for the 
Americans across the water to have to sit and 
listen daily to these musical contributions. So 
the prisoners were notified that they would be 
expected hereafter to curtail their musical num- 
bers to the extent of the two herein mentioned. 

Through the Gulf of Mexico and the Caribbean 
Sea we had once more the joy of a darkened ship, 
and in the narrow passage between Yucatan and 
Cuba we were a trifle nervous about mines. That 
very week a vessel had gone down in the Carib- 



A Model Penitentiary 287 

bean with every soul on board, and nobody knows 
to this day what happened. Wisely, everything 
which occurs in war times is not given out. But 
whispers came our way and we knew. 

With all the trials and discomforts (and they 
were many) of our six months' stay in South 
America, however, we must record it as the finest 
experience of our lives. We realize that this mag- 
nificent country lying to the south of us has a great 
future and that in that future we have a feig 
interest — because South America can and prob- 
ably will eventually feed the world. The splendid 
fertility of Brazil alone would supply that demand, 
and when we reckon the immensity of the othef 
countries — their industries, their wealth, their 
energetic and capable people, we feel justified in 
making the prediction that she will not only do 
that, but will help us to upbuild and enrich, after 
the great war is over. Already she is helping, 
for in the few short months elapsing since we 
were there, North Americans have opened banks, 
started stores, and bought many homes. Yes, 
South America was a revelation. The wealth of 
the whole country, the inexhaustible mines, the 
splendor of the scenery, the energy, culture, and 
charm of the people — the memory of it all can 
never fade. El Misti, Aconcagua, standing aloof 
and glorious in your splendid heights, with your 
snow garments wrapped about you like royal er- 



288 Below the Equator 

mine, and holding in your arms your smiling, silver 
lakes — does the future hold that sight for our eyes 
once more? Will the brilliant Southern Cross 
with its luminous Pointers ever glow in the heav- 
ens again for us? Who shall say? Regretfully 
we bid you farewell. 

No matter how much pleasure one may find in 
travel, the finest part of a journey to a far country 
is the return home again. The soil of one's native 
land feels good beneath one's feet. After a short 
stay in New Orleans, we reached Chicago without 
accident or incident, and, despite all our endeavors 
to avoid the date, we arrived on the thirteenth! 



